Abandoned Sparks
by Teefarino
Summary: Stuck together on a botched and chaotic mission to destroy the Avatar, Azula and Zuko must figure out their loyalties and how to cooperate to return home amidst the betrayal and trouble they seem to continually attract. AU-Zuko never went to that war meeting/joined the Gaang. As told by Azula.
1. Prologue: Zuko the Hero

_Prologue_

**Zuko the Hero**

(Epic Author's Note at the End)

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>Before the whole fiasco at Ba Sing Se, Azula had actually kind of liked her brother. He was weak, untalented, impatient, and he just illuminated the reasons why <em>she<em> should be inheriting the Fire Nation throne, rather than him. He had been disgraced so thoroughly in the past that it was just silly to think that he would ever redeem himself. He had been somewhat of a running joke among the noblemen; they often called him Zuko the Weak in jest. The fact that he had been born first was really of no concern at all—_she_ was obviously better suited for the life of power and superiority that was ahead. Just as Ozai had been the second-born, destined to rule, there was no doubt in anybody's mind that no matter what happened, Azula was going to be taking the throne, the second-born, destined to rule. Azula the Great. The Talented. The Conniving. There were so many good qualities to choose from.

And then Ba Sing Se happened.

Lies upon lies. She had given him the honor of killing the Avatar. He was Zuko the Glorious now. She had basically given him a free pass back into the Fire Nation, because if she hadn't done that, then he would have not been allowed back into this place, except perhaps to live indefinitely in the dungeons. But looking into his face, it had been so obvious… the Avatar lived, and he was continually on edge because of it. She _had_ to give the glory to him, knowing what he knew. It would have been a hundred times better for him to take the glory and to take the impending disgraceful aftermath along with it. Because it really was only a matter of time before everything came out, and she refused to take the disgrace of not properly killing a little 12 year old boy.

But until then… Zuko was damn annoying.

It wasn't like he was flaunting his success everywhere. It wasn't like he was bragging or showing off. Zuko wasn't like that. It was everyone else. It was the servants talking about how interesting it was that he had redeemed himself. It was the noblemen laughing about how they had never expected to see the day. It was the goddamn soldiers commenting that they had thought Azula would have been the one to save the Fire Nation, but no, it was Zuko, of all people. _Boy_, they said_, Azula must have really lost her touch, if Zuko had beaten her to the glory of killing the Avatar_. Now they said Zuko the Great and Azula the Slow. The Slow! As if she had slow reflexes or something! It was that. It was those stupid little remarks that made her burn inside, even if she was poised and beautiful, as always, on the outside.

How glorious the day would be when Zuko was disgraced again. She daydreamed about the things the soldiers would say then. _Wow_, they would say, _he couldn't even kill a 12 year old kid. He had all those years to find him, and when the kid was right in front of him, he wasn't even strong enough to do it_. It would be so perfect. And at that point, if Zuko came out and said that Azula had laid the final blow… well, he might as well have been talking to a wall. No one would believe that; they'd think he was making excuses.

It would be so glorious.

Thankfully, there wasn't much time to dwell on the many injustices of waiting for Zuko to get what he deserved. With the Day of Black Sun only a week away, there was far too much to do around the palace. Meetings had to be attended, plans had to be devised, and training had to be rigorous. There wasn't much time for anything except for planning and plotting.

It was late afternoon, and Azula realized that she was done for the day. Only three different war meetings today, making it probably the least exhausting day in a while, though you wouldn't have guessed it by looking at Zuko's grumpy visage as he left their final meeting of the day before her. He looked as though he hadn't slept in weeks, and Azula knew that it was over the pressure of the Avatar's life. He was constantly dwelling on it; she could tell every time she looked into his face, every time they walked into a meeting about the impending invasion—every time, he just tensed and stressed and burned inside. It was amazing that no one else was picking up on it, but all the same, there were more important things to ponder about than the many distresses of Fire Prince Zuko.

Like… what was she going to do with this afternoon of free time?

She wondered what Zuko would be doing with his free time—probably pacing his room or something equally dramatic in his worries. She couldn't stop thinking about the issue and how irritating the whole thing was. When would Zuko the Honorable become Zuko the Disgraced? He would be double disowned when they all found out about the Avatar being alive. He had every right to be worried, and she hoped he was worried sick. Father might even skip the disownment and just kill him this time, depending on his mood. And that might be better for everyone. Zuko would be put out of his pathetic misery, Ozai wouldn't have to worry about him messing everything up anymore, and she would be right in line for the throne, with no concern about anyone who tried to stop her. She wouldn't have to worry about him doing anything to screw up her progress to the throne, and life would just be easier, though there wouldn't be the sweet satisfaction of taunting him after the fact.

That would be a fun way to spend an hour, she thought, by reminding Zuko of the future consequences if the Avatar had lived. It was so satisfying to watch him squirm inside. She was sure that he was given this free time as well; he had less responsibility in this mission anyway, being that he had never been all that strategically minded… and because he had already done the honors of 'killing' the Avatar. He was Zuko the Great now, instead of just Zuko the Incompetent. Or Zuko the Mediocre might have been appropriate. She couldn't get used to this. Ugh. She just hated him.

She reached his door and briefly considered knocking, but then decided against it and barged in instead, standing momentarily in the doorway.

The windows were all open, the sun shining brightly into the room even as dusk was approaching. The curtains swayed slightly in the mild breeze that circulated through the room, but it was a comfortable heat. And Zuko was nowhere to be seen.

Well… that was disappointing.

She set her hands on the windowsill and gazed out the window. It really was a nice view from here. You could see the entire rest of the palace from this window, and she knew that one of his other windows was good for seeing one of the nearby neighborhoods where the noblemen lived. Of course, the nice perks of royalty were all wasted on Zuko when all he did was mope and stress and rage about everything.

There was a sharp knock at the door.

Azula turned and promptly opened the door, as though it were her own room.

A servant stood there, a handful of scrolls in his fist, and he frowned at the sight of her. "I apologize, Princess," he said hesitantly. "I thought this was Prince Zuko's chambers."

"You thought correctly," Azula said. "I'm visiting him. Why are you here?"

"I have an important scroll for him," the servant said. "There is one here for you as well. I will return later to deliver the prince's."

"Well, there's no sense in that," Azula said, taking her own scroll and holding out her other hand. "Just give it to me. I'll give it to him. He should be back any minute now; he went to the washroom for a moment."

The servant hesitated, but he obediently turned the scroll over to her. He stood in the doorway, watching her uneasily, as though he was unsure of what he had done.

"Do you need anything else?" she snapped. "You are dismissed."

The servant bowed his head and left hurriedly.

Azula slammed the door shut and promptly opened Zuko's scroll. This was an invitation to an upcoming all-day war meeting, the day before the Day of Black Sun. Well, this invitation would just make his day, wouldn't it? They just couldn't see the worthlessness of him anymore. They were all so blind. He was to be seated on Fire Lord Ozai's right hand side. _That was her side._ He was taking her place. _She_ was being_demoted_. Azula swallowed, a rage flooding into her so quickly that she felt her face burn. He hadn't even done anything else to deserve that spot, she thought angrily. It was this stupid Avatar debacle. He wasn't even talented. He wasn't even all that smart. He certainly wasn't good-looking! He was Zuko the Scarred. And what if they never found out the truth, that the Avatar was still alive? If that was the case, she had ruined her life! She was to be replaced by him, the talentless, the over-emotional… ugh!

Unacceptable. This was absolutely unacceptable.

Suddenly, there was a loud creak as the bedroom door opened and Azula tucked the scrolls away into the back of her belt, quiet and unobtrusive. And there he stood, in his doorway. Zuko the Horrible. He stopped immediately at the sight of her, unease flitting across his expression. "What are you doing here?" he asked accusingly, his eyes quickly skimming across his room.

Azula pursed her lips. "Why does it matter? Are you hiding something?"

"No," he glared, moving out of the doorway. "I just don't want you in my room. Get out of here."

She put a hand on her hip, sighing dramatically. "You know, Zu-zu, I had something for you, but I don't think I'm going to give it to you now."

"Well, I don't care," Zuko crossed his arms over his chest. Boy, he was in a bad mood. It just made this all the more easy. Azula strolled out of his room, stifling the smile that was creeping up into her face.

"Goodnight, brother," she told him, and he slammed the door loudly.

He wasn't invited to the most important meeting of the century now, and he _deserved_ it. Hiding things and probably off scheming with people about the Avatar. He deserved to be tried for treason. He didn't deserve _her spot_ to the right of the Fire Lord. He didn't deserve the glory he would have gotten for being there, being the hero they all admired. _Zuko the Hero_. It made her sick. He just didn't deserve it. And now he wouldn't get it.

Azula held his scroll in a burning fist, watching it blacken into cinders, and for a moment, waiting for him to fall almost became bearable again.

And on the day of the war meeting when Zuko was nowhere to be found, Azula suggested the servants look outside for him, explaining how he had grown accustomed to the outdoorsy life living among homeless peasants for so long. They waited and waited until everyone was thoroughly annoyed with waiting and the Fire Lord declared they must continue on to more important matters. She could feel it in the air. The day was near.

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>BTW I believe most of this prologue canonly happened… lolol.<p>

I just _know_ that Azula did something to stop Zuko from getting his formal invitation to the big war meeting before the day of black sun. It seems like such an Azula thing to do. And I don't think Zuko would have left the Fire Nation for the Gaang if he hadn't known about the 'destroy everything' plan made up in the meeting. (At least not at that point) So, w_hat if the servants couldn't find him on the war meeting day?_

In addition, as much as I adore Azula/Zuko shipping, this story will have none of that, so do not be afraid if that isn't your cup of tea. This is purely a bonding/character growth story. Unless someone begs. LOL. No, I have other stories for that. :)

This will be a pretty long story. It is almost completely planned out, at about 18 chapters, plus an epilogue, though it doesn't help that I tend to write non-chronologically. Anyhoo, I hope you have enjoyed this reading (and sorry about my extensive ramblings); please leave a review if you can! I started writing and planning this story in the summer of 2011, so there has been a lot of work put into this-I would adore any feedback you have.

Chapter 1 will go up shortly. I hope you stay tuned! :)


	2. Chapter 1: The Arrangement

An abandoned spark makes a mighty flame.

-Unknown

* * *

><p>Chapter 1: The Arrangement<p>

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>The day had come.<p>

Azula smoothed her hair back in the mirror, making sure that she looked impeccable. There was no one to impress, really, but a princess should always look at her utmost. She straightened her armor before walking out, and then began her stroll to the Fire Lord's chamber. This was going to be the best day ever._ What was her motivation_? she thought, so that she could be in better character. She was hurt, betrayed, in shock. Why, today, while waiting in the Fire Lord's chambers, the _Avatar_ and his companions had burst in, expecting to fight the Fire Lord! What were the _odds_ of the _Avatar_ surviving the attack from Ba Sing Se? What were the odds of his bursting in on the Day of Black Sun? Hmm… perhaps someone hadn't stricken him hard enough… or worse!… perhaps the one who had allegedly stricken had _intended_ for the Avatar to survive… oh dear, someone was really going to be in trouble.

What a great day today was looking to be.

Azula put on her best surprised/angry face, and she burst into Fire Lord Ozai's chambers, exclaiming, "Father! Have you heard the news?"

He was drinking tea and had the cup up to his lips. One eyebrow arched and he lowered it slowly. "What news?" he asked, a low, dangerous voice. He could sense that there was something there, something he wouldn't like. Oh, yes, it was a perfect set-up. She couldn't have planned it better.

"The Avatar!" Azula exclaimed.

He voice became darker. "What of the Avatar?"

"He lives," Azula said, the most convincing distress in her tone. "I saw him, I fought him. The Dai Li can testify to it." Of course the Dai Li would never be able to testify that she had known, known for weeks now, since Zuko was just _so obvious_. It was astounding to think that no one else could see it in his eyes, but that matter was neither here nor there.

"What?" Ozai bellowed, throwing his cup to the ground as he rose.

"Zuko failed," she said, lowering her head as though this were very disappointing to her. Really, it was exciting. He was going to be in _so much_ _trouble._ It was going to be so great. "I thought he had laid the final blow, but in fact, he was not strong enough."

"I should have known," Ozai cursed inwardly, and Azula privately agreed, but no matter. "Of course he couldn't do it. I cannot believe…" the fire flickered high around them, erratic and angry. "Very well," he paced silently for several minutes, seeming to calm himself. "Very well… guard!" he spat at the nearest soldier. "Summon Prince Zuko immediately!"

"Yes, sir," said the soldier before hurrying off.

Azula tried not to smile as she looked up at the Fire Lord and the throne before her, the throne that would certainly be hers one day, now that Zuko was officially going to be cast out, probably killed or banished forever or indefinitely locked away in a jail cell. The jail cell might be a nice bargain so she could visit and taunt him. Of course, Zuko's destiny was not hers to decide.

Ozai frowned at her. "How could you have been so mistaken? You said yourself you saw the Avatar killed! You said you were impressed with Zuko's strength!"

An unforeseen bump in the road.

"I was mistaken," she said slowly, weighing her words cautiously. She could not admit that the Avatar may have had powers that they didn't know about—that would give Zuko an out. "It was a very believable performance," she continued carefully. "But in the end, I think he did not strike the boy hard enough. If he only could have struck him with lightning, perhaps…"

"Talentless boy," Ozai hissed, almost to himself. The flames surrounding them twitched and danced in fury. "Why did you not attack?" he demanded. "You know how Zuko is! He is a liability in everything he does!"

Oh, she knew how he was. She wished she could express the depth of her knowledge and dislike of Zuko and his infinite weaknesses, but this had to be said artfully, had to keep to the topic. "I thought he could do it," she said calmly, her tone conveying a heavy regret. "I thought he had proven himself to be strong enough, but I was mistaken."

Fire Lord Ozai paced silently, the flames licking the walls and charring the ceiling. He paced and he paced, and Azula did not move from her place kneeling at the ground, patiently waiting for the verdict. To disturb him in such a mood while he was deep in thought could be deadly.

He sat back in his imperial seat, a strange coldness in his face, a hard, fierce expression in his eyes that preceded something lethal. She had seen that look on him when Zuko had been standing before him, at that Agni Kai so long ago.

"I have a very important mission for you, Princess Azula," the Fire Lord said, pressing his fingertips together, his eyes darkening as they looked to her. She waited, trying not to appear over-eager.

"I am going to send Zuko out to find the Avatar again," he said. "And I want you to go with him."

"You said yourself he is a liability," Azula protested.

"I did," said Ozai, his expression betraying a heavy, unprecedented rage. "But sometimes… sometimes in order to teach a lesson, one must build up another's hopes… and then crush them. Is that not what he did to the Fire Nation when he claimed to have killed the Avatar and then, in fact, did not? This punishment shall fit the crime. If the two of you return with the Avatar, Zuko will be imprisoned, and _you_ will become the heir. If all goes well."

The flames crackled around them, hot and exciting. The future Fire Lord! Now _that _was a prize. She would be the Fire Lord, and who cared about Zuko? Oh, it was perfect! So, so perfect! What a journey it would be to get there… but at the end, she would be the future Fire Lord!

"Do you accept?" Ozai breathed.

"Yes. Of course," Azula said, bowing her head. How could she not accept? It was too wonderful. Although the downside was that she was stuck with Zuko for a week or however many days it took to actually find and capture the Avatar. It shouldn't be very long, she reasoned. They would have good resources. She was way more skilled than Zuko was, and much smarter. It was a small price to pay.

He stared down at her, his eyes narrowed and still furious about the whole thing. "Do not make me regret this decision," he growled, his voice low.

There was an authoritative knock at the door.

"Rise," Ozai commanded her, and she got to her feet, a strong sense of purposefulness in her heart. "Enter!" the Fire Lord bellowed, rising to his own feet and stepping down from his royal step above her.

Two soldiers entered, one in front of Zuko and one behind him. Zuko knelt hurriedly, his face illuminated by anxiety before it was hidden away by his kneeling.

"Prince Zuko," said Ozai, approaching easily, stopping near the middle of the room. He wore a temporary, fake friendliness that was far more terrifying than him throwing flames. "Get up. Come here."

Zuko nodded his head in acknowledgment and rose quickly to his feet. Azula saw his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed, and she wondered if their father could see the obvious apprehension in his body language the way that she could.

"What's going on?" Zuko asked, obediently taking a small step closer, his arms stiff at his sides.

"Come closer, boy," said Ozai, beckoning him with a curve of his finger. "I have a question."

And suddenly, Azula was stricken with the thought that she was very glad that she was not in Zuko's shoes, that she was not facing the most powerful man in the world, a man who had maimed him already once before and was probably considering doing the same thing again shortly. And what a show she would get, almost the only witness right now. She wondered if Father would be more lethal with fewer witnesses, though it was unfortunate they wouldn't _all_ be able to see Zuko fall again.

Ozai approached him, as Zuko did not appear comfortable getting closer than two feet, and the Fire Lord stood just in front of him, very much taller and very much intimidating with the rage that she felt radiating off of him. The Fire Lord stared at him disapprovingly from the close distance, and Zuko stared back, troubled, but not backing away.

"Tell me," said the Fire Lord quietly. "What lesson did you take from this?"

His big hand reached up and touched Zuko's face, against the scarred skin, and he pushed against him, forcibly turning the boy's head to the side. Zuko's lips pressed into a firm line, and his brow furrowed, pained and indignant; of course it was a rhetorical question, and Zuko didn't speak. The air around them felt suddenly dangerous and oppressive, and so much tension! It was heavy and exciting. Almost terrifying.

"No," said Ozai, grasping Zuko's chin and forcing him to meet his gaze again "That isn't the question I want answered. The real question is," he released his chin, leaning closer to him, as though he were to tell him a secret. "What _really_ happened to the Avatar in Ba Sing Se?"

Zuko knew what this was about, and Azula was aware of her own heart pounding in all the drama, and she swallowed, watching them quietly beside her.

Zuko's voice was hoarse. "I…"

It all happened so quickly. One moment, Zuko was standing there, back straight, facing his destiny, and the next second, Ozai's fist had collided with his side, a blade in his hand between his fingers. Zuko gasped from the impact, and Ozai gripped his shoulder, shoving him violently backwards onto the floor.

"Leave immediately," Ozai hissed, standing over Zuko with the blade in his fist as though he wanted to stab him again. "The both of you. Do not return unless you have the Avatar's _head on a platter_. Do I make myself clear?" He glared at the both of them contemptuously, his eyes fixating longest on Zuko, who held his right hand over the wound on his side, a hardened expression on his scarred face as he glared at the floor. "You are both dismissed."

There was a pause of time, and neither Zuko nor Azula moved, frozen in time by the respective tasks they had been given.

"Now!" The Fire Lord bellowed, flames erupting from his sides as the walls responded with hatred toward them. Zuko scrambled up to his feet and left silently, his hand pressed to his bleeding side. Azula stared up at the throne, the throne that she promised to return to as the heir. The throne that Zuko would never touch, the throne that Ozai now returned to, tossing his little blade to the side.

"Can you not hear? I said _you are dismissed_, princess," he said coldly. "Do not disappoint me."

Clenching her teeth, Azula turned and she left wordlessly. She would be the best leader in the history of the Fire Nation, no matter the cost. And she never disappointed.


	3. Chapter 2: Traitors

Chapter 2: Traitors

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>Sozin's Comet was precisely a month away, and although Fire Lord Ozai had not given them a specific deadline on returning with the dead Avatar, Azula was determined to be back before then. She <em>had<em> to be a part of the plans for that day; what a nightmare it would be to be stuck away on an airship while such important events unfolded for the Fire Nation. And anyway, if the world was already destroyed after Sozin's Comet, no one would care if the Avatar was dead—the world would be in ruins. There was no hope after that. The Fire Nation would have won, and destroying the Avatar would have less purpose; their glorious return would have less meaning.

No, she wouldn't let it happen. They had left the Fire Nation first thing the next morning, and she resolved to be back within the next two weeks. A good, punctual deadline. She had to be.

And part of that was going to be having a good crew. There were 75 soldiers onboard, according to the ship's roster she had read, and they were all skilled Firebenders. Even so, the Fire Lord still called the entire group into his area to discuss the mission, and probably to vent about Zuko's incompetence. She hoped he had impressed upon them the importance of this whole mission though, because the last thing she needed was an unmotivated group.

"We're ready to head off," announced the pilot, and Azula watched as he pressed and pulled the buttons to direct the airship. "Where shall we go, princess?" He looked to her and then to Zuko, who stood moodily against the wall by the exit. "Prince?" Usually it was just Azula who directed things, especially strategic things, but she remembered in annoyance that this mission belonged to the both of them.

"We should head for the nearest Air Temple," Azula instructed confidently. "We'll start the search from the beginning."

Zuko didn't protest, and she knew he would have if he had disagreed. He was like that. His face was a testament to that.

"Very well," said the pilot. "To the Western Air Temple."

The airship trembled to life, and the vibrations of its movement could be felt in the ground. Now in motion with a destination, there wasn't much else for them to do, and obviously picking up on this, Zuko turned and left the room wordlessly.

"Tea, princess?" a servant asked, appearing suddenly at her shoulder.

"No," Azula eyed the little teacup distastefully.

"I insist, miss," said the servant, lightly pressing the cup forward.

"You are dismissed, peasant," Azula snapped, looking out the window as the airship rose in the air, starting their trip. She felt the press of something in front of her and saw that the servant was still there, still extending this stupid tea out to her. How obnoxious! She snatched the tea cup, frowning, and then she purposefully dropped the cup onto the hard floor, where it promptly shattered into many small shards.

Azula glared at the servant and turned from the pilot's room, leaving without another word.

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>The day passed without much incident, and as they expected to arrive at the Western Air Temple the following afternoon, they had to be sure that they got a thorough night's sleep. The war blimp tore through the clouds and drizzly rain, and Azula glared at the gloomy sky, vaguely irritated by the small thoughts that flitted through her head.<p>

Was it fair that she should be made to come on this hunt when this all was Zuko's fault anyway? She should be back in the homeland, preparing and training for Sozin's Comet and the inevitable attack before then. The enemy would have to be completely foolish to not try and attack again before all was lost. She should have been training troops, not dealing with the backlash of Zuko's failures. And _he_ should have been in prison. She should not be stuck out here with him.

She sighed, pulling her armor off as she readied herself for sleep. The bright side of all of this seemed far away, but such a bright side it was. She would be the new heir when they returned, and Zuko would be in a dungeon for the rest of his life. That was something to look forward to. It would be so good to be home again, sneering at her pathetic brother stuck in solitary confinement, prideful in the accomplishment that _she_ would be making… and not him, never him.

It was also hard to look at the bright side when they were heading in the wrong direction. It was the middle of the night now, yes, but she could still see the thick foliage and the mountainous terrain—they were too far east. Who the hell was piloting this thing? She had explicitly instructed them to head toward the Air Temples, and the nearest one to the Fire Nation had been the Western Air Temple. They ought to be over the ocean. Such fools; had they never taken a geography course?

Annoyed, Azula went to her mirror by the door to check her appearance before leaving to rant at the pilot. Impeccable, of course, and it was even after dark. Usually the night tiredness set in for firebenders once it was this dark, but Azula—she had always been one of a kind. Just as beautiful and deadly at night as she was during the day.

Suddenly, without any sort of warning, the entryway door beside her slammed open and a soldier burst in, throwing out his fists and promptly incinerating her bed. Azula stared at him in surprise from her place behind the open door, her hand frozen in mid-air from when she had been reaching to touch her hair.

The soldier stared critically at the blazing bed, as though waiting for something, and Azula realized angrily that she would have been in that bed if she hadn't been up late, pondering the new turns in her life. This was an _assassin_! A stupid one at that, as he _still_ stood in the doorway, perhaps waiting for a flailing body to scream and topple from the mattress.

Azula gripped the door's edge and slammed it against the man, the hard iron of the door striking him forcefully before she jumped out from her place behind the door and summoned an explosive burst of flame. The soldier screeched, and she didn't relent on her attack until he fell. A traitor on board! He must have infiltrated the Fire Nation army some time ago because she remembered that Fire Lord Ozai had specifically chosen the soldiers who would come on this trip. He wouldn't have chosen someone inexperienced or with a questionable background, someone like this fool. And what a fool he was, thinking he could have killed her on his own—of course, he must have thought she was asleep, but honestly.

She left him smoldering on the ground and checked her reflection in the mirror again. Not even a hair out of place. Flawless. Peering outside of her room, she saw that there was no guard outside of her door, or even in the hallway. Well, that was probably why this idiot had been able to bumble in here. Unless of course, he _was_ the night guard. That still wouldn't account for the fact that there was no one in the hallway.

She quietly made her way down the hall, fully intending on sending a hawk to the Fire Lord at the soonest chance she got; this crew had now proven themselves negligent and disloyal. The pilot had to hear about this; he had to be informed about this abomination, and he could point her to the nearest messenger hawk. They were going to be in so much trouble.

Creeping down the hallway, Azula was aware of a sudden commotion behind one of the doors. She paused, listening. Thumping against the walls. Items clattering to the floor. Little shouts. It sounded like an interesting fight. She heard scraping against the walls and then a loud thud against the floor. There was a long silence.

Unexpectedly, Zuko burst out of the room, breathless and wild. Hardly missing a beat, he lunged, grasping her shoulders as he shoved her into the wall. "Why?" he breathed at her, confusion and dislike mingling in his gaze. "Why did you do it?"

"What are you talking about?" Azula glared at him disdainfully, quite annoyed by his roughness.

"You sent that guy in to kill me!" he accused, and she noticed a bruise forming on the back of his jaw. The understanding hit her immediately, the most unpleasant of realizations. Someone had tried to have them _both_ killed.

"Don't be foolish," she said, grabbing his wrist to move him. "If I wanted to kill you, I would do it myself."

Zuko frowned at her, and she pried his hands off of her shoulders easily as he considered this. "I guess that's true," he muttered darkly.

"But we do have a problem," Azula said, brushing her shoulders off, as though his touch had dirtied her. "Apparently someone is out to kill the both of us because I fought an assassin just a few moments ago. I'm wondering if there are more traitors on board this ship."

"Someone tried to kill you too?" he asked, and she ignored the potential question in his tone—_why_? Why would someone try and kill Azula? Even Zuko probably understood why someone would go after _him_, but Azula? Azula was talented and great! It made no sense at all, and she didn't want to speculate about it.

"We'll get a messenger hawk from the pilot," Azula instructed, changing the topic. "We have to inform Father of this mutiny."

"Okay, well, I'm going to get my swords," Zuko said, and he seemed to feel the same paranoia that she felt—that there might be more of these traitors on board. He disappeared into his room and emerged quickly with his weapons, and Azula saw that the room was a wreck. His fight had been more drawn out than hers; she wondered if he had been in bed like she should have been when they had attacked him.

The two of them quietly made their way down to the piloting room. The hallways were still deserted and their footsteps echoed ominously with each silent step. From the distance, there was the faint sound of laughter; irritated, Azula realized that they must be drinking or partying or some other nonsense. _Drinking_ instead of noticing that _not only_ were they flying in the wrong direction, but that there were these damn assassins on board trying to kill the most important crew members. She couldn't wait to get back home and have the whole lot of them imprisoned.

She set her hand on the metal door, fully intended to burst in and ruin their lives, but then she heard her name from within the room. "But what about Princess Azula?" someone said. She looked at Zuko, who must have heard it too, because he put his index finger to his lips and pressed his unmarked ear to the metal door to better hear them. Annoyed that he'd thought of it first, Azula put her ear to the door as well, facing him.

It sounded packed full of people; it truly sounded like they were having a party right in the piloting room. Were they stupid? If one of them knocked into the wrong button, then they would all be screwed.

"We have our orders," said another soldier. "Take 'em out and leave 'em behind. She's no different. It's just too bad she wouldn't take the poison."

"She's a strong one," said the first soldier. "Do you really think General Lang took her out?"

"It's the middle of the night," said another voice. "We have the element of surprise. Stop worrying about everything, Zorua!"

The rest of them gave a little cheer, and there was the sound of several glasses tinkling together, like a toast. Apparently Zorua wasn't looking convinced though because the second soldier continued on.

"Listen," he told the crew. "You may want to spend the rest of _your_ life following a pair of spoiled teenagers on an impossible mission, but I have a life, and you have a mission. You have your orders, sir. We _all_ have our orders. It might not be pleasant, but it is our duty. I'm thankful for this. You should be too."

It was a celebration. These crew members were celebrating their deaths.

Azula opened her mouth in surprise, quickly closing it and regaining her composure. These imbeciles were planning on killing the both of them? For what, exactly? Just so they could return home? And they had called her spoiled! Her eyes met with Zuko's, and he wore the expression of indignant surprise that she refused to show. She pressed her ear harder against the door, but now there was only the sounding of cheering and drinking. These fools were celebrating their deaths! The deaths of the prince and princess of the Fire Nation!

"How many people do you think are in there?" Zuko whispered.

"A lot," Azula could hardly hear specifics through all the cheering and excitement in the room. What could they do? The way it sounded, every person on board the airship was a part of this conspiracy to be rid of them. They were severely outnumbered.

"We should get ready to fight, then," he said. "We have the element of surprise."

"There could be up to 75 of them," she scoffed, annoyed at his inability to think realistically. "And you're a slow fighter—you'd only hold us back."

"I'm not _that_ hurt!" Zuko snapped, and with a shock, she remembered that he _was_ hurt; he had been stabbed only yesterday afternoon, and she hadn't even remembered it.

"No," Azula said. "What we need to do is retreat, then return and take them out in smaller numbers. While we retreat we can find the messenger hawk and send it out to the Fire Lord to get some kind of support."

He frowned at her, not looking completely convinced. "Well—"

There was a sudden, loud bang as the door to the piloting room slammed open and loud laughing and celebration faltered, leaving a terrible, heavy silence settling between them. Zuko and Azula stood facing the soldiers for one long moment, and then it was like all hell had broken loose.

Fire erupted around them as the firebenders attacked from each angle within the room. They pushed into each other, flowing out of the room, and they fought. Azula dodged and punched and sent lethal bursts of flame, wishing for just a little more space so she could summon a lightning bolt and destroy them all. She remembered looking through the roster and being relieved at seeing so many skilled soldiers, but this was ridiculous, and there were so many of them packed in here that it was getting difficult to move. Getting in a bending stance was becoming impossible, and she began to fight unfairly, pinching and kicking and biting. She managed to withdraw the small blade in her wrist pocket, but it was hard to find a place to stab when the soldiers were covered in such tough armor.

Thick hands closed around her wrist, and another pair grabbed her other hand. She stabbed one of the grabbing hands, but another reached out and took its place as the owner exclaimed. Azula kicked fire at them, which weakened the grasp, but this place was so packed, there was another pair of hands grasping at her arm to hold her still. Someone else grabbed her ankle, and it became impossible to kick while trapped in this heavy soldier grasp, and she screamed at them.

"You're going to pay for this!" Azula shrieked, a fury raging inside her that she had never known. A mutiny! On _their _ship? Oh, hell no. The group of soldiers, at least six of them, carried her into the piloting room as she cursed them and struggled to free her arms. She managed to send her fist into the groin of one soldier holding her arm, but there were others to take his place, and before she knew it, she had been forced into a chair, her arms strapped to the arms, her legs strapped to the legs… like some kind of prisoner. She hissed at the soldiers, a plume of flame bursting from her lips, and some pompous idiot covered her mouth quickly with tape.

Azula glared furiously, watching the scene before her in silence. They had gotten Zuko too and strapped him to a chair beside her; the sheer number of them was just unfair. Although Zuko had not started spewing fire from his mouth, they preemptively taped him silent as well, and the soldiers backed away, smirking and infuriatingly smug. She bet they thought they were so great. If there hadn't been so many of them in such a small space, she would have killed them or easily snuck away. She _had_ knocked out her assassin in almost no time, after all.

"So, what now?" a bleeding soldier asked the pilot. "How should we do it?"

"I say we just burn them to a crisp and get it over with," someone volunteered, and there was a small cheer in response.

"No, we should do something that leaves less marks on the body," the pilot said thoughtfully. "We don't want to cause suspicion. He told us to keep it simple, remember?"

As they pondered the ways to kill them, Azula tried moving her hands. They were bound very tightly, the rope looped around her wrist and full arm. She heated her hands, hoping to burn through the bindings, but the majority of the rope was on her forearms, where the heat wouldn't concentrate. Plus, this chair was made of metal, just like pretty much everything was in this airship. Metal was not as easily burned through as a wooden chair. Though it _was_ possible.

"Yeah!" the room cried out, and Azula looked at Zuko, guessing that the room had reached a verdict. He raised his brow meaningfully, as though he wanted to tell her something, but she felt a jerk as the soldiers lifted her chair, carrying her somewhere. She wondered if this was the last time she would ever see her brother's stupid face again.

Father was going to murder them all. Why, if he had been so enraged over Zuko's inability to properly kill, this should light a spark in him that they would never put out.

But what if Fire Lord Ozai never found out that there was a mutiny? What if they simply died and no one ever found out? The crew didn't have to return to the Fire Nation; they could just keep traveling and pretend that the mission was still on. In fact, that seemed just like something a pack of traitors like this would do!

Azula turned her face, roughly rubbing the corner of her covered mouth against her shoulder, rubbing it hard enough to try and weaken the tape. If she got rid of the tape, she could bend fire from her mouth or she could bite herself free of the ropes. And then the soldiers carrying her would really be in trouble. The soldiers set her chair down in the middle of a large, empty room. Another group brought Zuko's chair in beside her, and then they all left. Zuko immediately set to work on flailing and kicking, trying to break himself free. His chair promptly fell backwards in his wild struggle, and the intercom above them made a sound as it turned on. It would have been funny if it wasn't so serious.

"Any last words?" asked a voice, and they could hear laughter in the background.

She hated them. Zuko made a sound of triumph, and she looked over, hating him too. He had broken one hand free, his forearm lined with bruises from where the ropes had pressed into him… but he had done it.

And then the floor opened up beneath them.

The ocean beneath the airship was chilly and frozen, and the water pressing in from every angle was like a thousand little knives of ice. Azula continued rubbing her face against her shoulder, madly trying to loosen the tape, but to no avail. The chill in the water was painful, and although everything around her was already dark in the night, somehow, she felt the world becoming darker.

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>The next thing she knew, she was lying on a dirty beach, and she felt two heated hands touching her face and the feeling that someone was kissing her. Immediately, Azula shoved him away and she turned to the side, throwing up water. What had happened?<p>

Traitors, deceivers. There had been a mutiny. They had been attacked by their own crew. They had been dropped into the ocean. Why? Why did this happen? She looked to Zuko, who sat on his knees, searching the sky silently. Had he saved her? She didn't want to think about that, but she eyed him anyway. The bruises on his forearm and his jaw looked unnecessarily dark against his pale skin.

"So, what happened to you?" Azula asked, clearing her throat. "You look more horrible than usual."

"The same thing that happened to you," he retorted. "The crew turned on us." He shrugged. "I was sleeping. One of them came in and tried to smother me."

"Your reflexes are as slow as ever," she commented.

"I just saved your life!" he protested.

"I didn't need your help," she countered, though she wasn't sure how true that was. She couldn't remember if she had managed to get that tape off her mouth or not. If she had, she would have easily been able to free herself. There was no way he would have needed to saved her; she would have swam herself to shore and then possibly passed out from the fatigue. That had to be where the gap in her memory went.

Zuko scoffed and rolled his eyes, looking back up into the sky. The airship was nowhere to be seen, which was probably a good thing at this point.

"Where are we?" Azula promptly changed the topic.

"I don't know."

"You should know. You've traveled all around the world, haven't you- looking for the Avatar? Or were you not paying attention to those important details?"

Zuko folded his arms across his chest, cross. "It's dark. Why don't _you_ figure out where we are?"

"This is what we're going to do," Azula said, turning her back to the ocean and scanning the dark shoreline. It was a dense forest, and there was not a light in view—no sign of any nearby villages or anything. It was like staring into an abyss. "We're going to rest here for the night. We'll wake at sun-up and go to the nearest town. We'll demand supplies from there and travel back to the Fire Nation; then we can get those idiots tried for treason and get back to our real mission."

"But we don't even know where we are," said Zuko. "What if the nearest town hasn't been conquered by the Fire Nation? They won't help us then. They'll probably kick us out instead."

"Oh, please," she scoffed. "If they won't help us, we'll help ourselves."

"Alright, fine," he shrugged impassively, presumably agreeing just to end the conversation. He settled himself on a fallen tree at the outskirts of the forest, breaking off some of the branches and tossing them about a foot in front of him, making a small pile. She critically watched him build his fire, and when he sat in front of it to dry himself, she decided to build her own.

The sky was darker than black now, and Azula sighed at her luck, wringing out her wet hair. Stuck out here in the middle of nowhere with silly Zuko who tore a piece off of his shirt and pressed it to his side in silence. At least they had survived, she tried to think, but the optimism was irritating in this bleak place, so she abandoned that train of thought.

Telling Father about Zuko's failures only yesterday seemed so long ago.

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>Funfact: Zorua is a Pokemon's name. Lol.<p>

Things are about to get interesting :) The action scenes were tough for me, I think I'm more of a dialogue person. Alas! Let me know what you think.

Next update planned for the end of April, hopefully before my finals week!


	4. Chapter 3: Travels and Thieves

Chapter 3: Travels and Thieves

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>Azula watched the sun come up as her leg tingled unpleasantly, it having gotten more sleep throughout the night than the rest of her cramped up, uncomfortable body had. How anyone could sleep outside like this was ridiculous; she remembered being out in the wild with Ty Lee and Mai, but the group of them had always had <em>some<em> kind of shelter, even if it was just a tent for each of them; and at the least, they usually had a pillow or something.

She rose to her feet and stretched, feeling stiff and achy. She had injuries she hadn't even known existed, probably because all the adrenaline of the night. Her ribs were tender, possibly bruised, and her legs felt sore, but when she touched them, it didn't feel like there were any scratches or wounds. But worst of all, she felt a scrape on the side of her chin. Azula had always been careful about getting any part of her face damaged in fights, and the chin wasn't a very noticeable place to be injured, but still. What if it scarred over? She would have to check on that before they returned to the Fire Nation. She hoped it wouldn't leave a mark—what a nightmare, to have a permanent facial scar like Zuko.

Zuko was sitting in his spot several feet away, his legs crossed over each other, his hands resting on his knees. He looked like he was meditating. His posture was very good, she thought, but he looked a mess. His hair stuck up at a weird angle, and dirt had adhered itself to his arms and legs, almost masking the bruises she remembered seeing on his forearms. She realized that he was still in his sleep clothes, something she hadn't noticed in the night. A dark red shirt that tied in the front (and was torn along the bottom) and short pants that only reached his shins. The swords that he had fought with were nowhere to be seen, and he didn't even have shoes. Ha! He looked silly like that out here. Azula was thankful that she hadn't put on her sleep clothes before the attack, or she might be just as ill-equipped as he was. As it was, her clothes were decent for traveling; after all, it was the outfit she traditionally wore beneath her armor. She wore a red shirt that tied in the front, and her long pants were tucked into her knee high shoes, which, she had to admit, were a bit uncomfortable damp and chafing as they were. The side effects of falling into the ocean, she supposed. Thank goodness she had managed to get dry.

She wondered where they were in the world. It was a beach, obviously. This beach was nothing like Ember Island, or any of the other beaches surrounding the Fire Nation. The sand was filthy-looking and dark, and the beach part only extended so far, as trees quickly took over the landscape on all sides. The water even looked murky and awful. She shuddered to think that she had been submerged in it. Azula turned to her brother, ready to leave this place, ready to be back in the Fire Nation. How long was it going to take to get back home? They had to get a move on, especially if they were to get back to the Fire Nation _and_ destroy the Avatar all before Sozin's Comet… which was 29 days away now. _Less_ than a month!

Azula approached Zuko, who was still quiet and meditating, and almost considered letting him finish his meditation before starting on their travels. It would be the polite thing to do. But they had a deadline to make. So, she roughly nudged his knee with the tip of her shoe.

"Come on, Zu-zu," she said. "It's time to get going."

He opened his unmarked eye and frowned at her. "You ought to meditate too," he said calmly.

Azula set her hands on her hips, her foot still on his knee, essentially stepping on him. "You can't tell me what to do," she told him, though she usually did meditate in the mornings. A meditation as the sun rose usually helped to energize her. Not _this_ morning though. Today, everything was just too different, and the sun was already up anyway. It wouldn't feel the same. Besides, they had to begin travelling. There wasn't time for this.

"Come _on_, Zu-zu," she repeated, prodding him harder. To some, it might have been considered a kick. She considered it to be more of a forceful nudge. With her foot.

"Cut it out!" Zuko snapped at her, shoving at her leg. She stumbled a bit at the push, and glared at him as he sullenly got to his feet. He dusted himself off, taking his sweet time, stretching his arms in front of him, and she crossed her arms over her chest as she waited. He was so annoying. So. Annoying.

"I cannot believe," Azula said, as they started into the trees, "that I am stuck out here with you. It is going to be _such_ a long day."

"Don't remind me," he murmured, and he let her lead the way.

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>Ten hours and five breaks later, it was humid and heavy outside, and the bugs were unbearable, slapping into her neck and face. Azula had always really liked the summertime for the sun and heat, but summertime at home had never really been like this. For one thing, it wasn't overrun with insects. For another thing, she usually wasn't lost in a wild forest with Zuko.<p>

This was probably the worst day ever. First of all, Azula felt drained of energy. The sleep they had gotten the night prior had not been quality sleep, and she still felt cramped and sluggish. Walking miles and miles was not helping her feel more alert, and she trudged through the thick foliage, not wanting to pick her feet up any higher. Secondly, she was hungry and thirsty. She did not think she had ever gone a full day without eating or drinking _something_. Wasn't that unhealthy? It was only one day, she reasoned, though her body protested and hated her for it. Lastly, she really, _really_ had to go to the bathroom. She did not think she had ever held in her bladder functions for so long. It was miserable. But where would she go? Even when she had been forced to go outside, the forests had been less unkempt, not overrun with bugs, or they had brought along a pot. This was so undignified, she thought. She was a princess.

She set her hand against a tree, looking up into the sky as the sun started to make its descent into dusk. "How far away are we from a town?" she asked, her first words since the morning. Her throat felt drier than a desert. She wished they had some water, and she thought back to the ocean they had fallen into. If only they had had a container to keep some in.

"I don't know," Zuko said, sounding hoarse himself. "Are you getting tired?"

She eyed him, unsure if it was a taunt of some sort. Perhaps he was still angry that she had kicked him in the morning. "No," Azula leaned against a tree, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're supposed to know where we _are_, Zuko. You traveled the world."

"Yeah, but I didn't _memorize_ it," he pushed through the hanging branches and gestured for her to follow. "Come on, let's keep going. If you're not tired."

"I would think you would remember a place like _this,_ if you'd been in it. And I would think you would go _everywhere_ on a search for the Avatar," she ranted at him, following though her legs felt like jelly. She did not want to walk anymore. She sighed, letting him lead. Wherever they were going. Maybe he subconsciously would remember. She wished she had eaten a larger dinner last night on the airship. "We're going to die of starvation out here, aren't we?"

"We won't," Zuko said confidently. "We've only been out here a day. I once went a whole week without food."

Azula stared at his back, annoyed for some reason. Was that his idea of reassurance? She did not want to spend a whole week without food out here. She huffed out an angry sigh and said nothing. What she really wanted was some _water_. Or a bed. Or a toilet. Damn. Every step she took felt like an aching jolt to her body. She did not think that she had ever walked this much in her life. When she had been traveling with Mai and Ty Lee, they had borrowed eel-hounds or ostrich-horses or had gone in tanks. They had walked a little, but nothing like this. Not hours and hours and hours of walking.

She took another heavy step and found herself stumbling over a tree root. Thankfully, her reflexes were quick enough that she didn't fall into the dirt, but how obnoxious! Azula never tripped over things. She was poised. She was graceful. She was most certainly _not_ clumsy. All this walking was exhausting her to an unmatched level.

Zuko turned and looked at her, the vague creases of a frown on his mouth. Did he hear her slip? She shrugged at him, like there was no big deal, and she continued to walk forward. But he stayed where he was, looking now into the trees, questioning.

"What is it?" Azula asked impatiently.

"Shh," he put his finger to his lips, listening to something she couldn't hear. She quieted herself, turning her ear toward the wilderness. She heard rustling, and lots of bug and animal noises. These noises had been a constant since they had walked into this terrible place. She heard nothing out of the ordinary.

Until a razor-sharp pain pierced her upper arm, so forceful and sudden that she fell backwards onto her bottom, almost falling into a tree behind her. Azula gasped from the shock of it, turning to look at her arm which so abruptly suffered. The sleeve of her shirt was torn, and her upper arm, just by her shoulder, bled and darkened the red fabric that was left on her arm. Oh damn, it was painful! She glanced at the tree that had almost broken her fall and saw a long arrow sticking from its trunk, an arrow that had not been there just a minute ago. Some idiot had _shot at her_ with an arrow! They had sliced her arm! They were going to pay for that!

Who on Earth was in this forest with them? Azula clenched her teeth, a strange mixture of a hiss and a growl escaping her, and she scrambled to her feet, searching the trees, searching for any sign of movement. This was unbelievable!

Zuko immediately faced the direction from which the arrow had come, his two hands up in a fighting stance, prepared for retaliation. He didn't look at her, his eyes wildly searching the trees. He was next, she thought. The next attack was for him, and they didn't even know where the attackers were. Seeming to be thinking along the same lines, Zuko yelled at the trees.

"Show yourself!" he shouted, creeping toward the trees just straight ahead, slowly crossing into a small clearing.

Azula rolled her eyes at him, feeling extra embittered by the ache in her upper arm. Like yelling at a hidden attacker would make them come out of hiding. What kind of logic was that? If _she_ was an attacker, she would just wait until he was lulled back into a false sense of security before attacking again.

Even so, Azula painfully raised her hands, skimming the area herself. There was no response from the trees; even the wind and every noisy animal in here seemed to have elected to cease. She clenched her jaw, each movement sending a twinge of pain through her arm. It was unpleasant, yes, but what made her angrier was the fact that some person-some hidden, cowardly person-would attack from above, when she had no chance of defending herself. That was _not fair_. She could obliterate this stranger in a heartbeat, if she had been given the chance. Did they even know who she was? When they found out that they had shot the princess of the Fire Nation, they were _really_ going to regret it.

"Show yourself immediately!" Zuko repeated.

They weren't going to show themselves, Azula thought. They were going to hide in the trees and make them uneasy before shooting them both in the head. Unacceptable. These cowardly criminals had to be weeded out of this forest. They had to force them out of hiding. She aimed her fist at the tree directly ahead of them, and shot a burst of blazing blue flames out at it, lighting the branches and leaves up like a second sun in the late afternoon.

There was a pause, and she and Zuko exchanged glances.

All of a sudden, the ground around them thudded as at least fifteen large, muscular men landed from the trees to the outer part of the clearing, blocking every little path of exit. Azula's eyes focused on the one with the bow and arrow, and she felt Zuko turn, his back to hers; kind of a smart idea, to not leave any spot unwatched around them.

"Firebenders, huh?" said one of the men, and the first thing she noticed was his large nose ring. Well, when she attacked, that would be the first thing to target. Such an easy target. Imbecile.

"You're going to pay for shooting at me," Azula said, directing this threat toward the man beside Nose Ring, the one who held the bow and arrow.

"Firebending kids are usually worth a nice ransom," Nose Ring continued. "Since most of them belong to nobles."

"We're not for sale," Zuko said firmly.

"And we're not _kids,_" Azula added, somehow more affected by the offense that they saw her as some kind of useless child than the offense that they were property to be taken. Her youth did not equate to idiocy.

Several of the men chuckled at this. Nose Ring smirked. "And just who do you kids think you are?"

She held her head up high, carrying all the dignity she could muster in her weary and irritated state. "I am Princess Azula of the Fire Nation, and this is my brother, Prince Zuko."

This really made them laugh, and several of the men pointed their weapons at the two of them, stuck in the middle. She wasn't sure if they believed her. They had swords and knives and the bow and arrow, of course, but she noticed that none of them was just standing there with fists. This was a pretty good indicator that none of them were benders, which just gave her and Zuko even more of an advantage, even though they were mostly outnumbered. It wasn't as much of an outnumbering as it had been on the airship. There were only about fifteen of them. And for one thing, there was so much more space out here. For another, these people were not firebenders. They were certainly not lightning benders. They were at a huge disadvantage, even if they looked strong. They may have been strong, but Azula knew that she was quick, and strength would never do you any good if you couldn't catch your prey.

The men stepped forward, leering at the two of them.

"Well," said Nose Ring, pointing his blade right at her. "Then I guess we're going to get a really nice ransom today."

"Alright, Zuko," Azula said authoritatively, as poised as ever, her tiredness forgotten in the rush of adrenaline. Her hands were still raised in front of her, ready for attack. She was not worried, even though her hurt arm throbbed at her in protest to her movements. "We'll split these fools, half and half. I'll attack the stupid ones, and you attack the ugly ones. I know it might be hard to tell them apart, but just do your best."

They weren't laughing anymore.

Chaos. The forest immediately heated with the bursts of flames that emerged from their hands. Blue flames erupted in front of her, alighting several thugs and some of the surrounding trees. Some of them pushed through the fire and continued to attack, but some screeched and took off in opposing directions. Azula smirked at that. Some people were so weak to pain. The minute they got burned, they took off in another direction to avoid any more of it. Cowards.

She dodged several sword swipes and knocked the back of someone's knees. Leapt in the air to avoid an attempt at her legs. Tossed punches of flame into the group of them, one into Nose Ring's face, one into the archer's side, one into someone's legs. One by one they fell, not all dead, but incapacitated or knocked out.

And the forest was quietly noisy again, punctuated by the crackling of the burning trees. She had to wonder how Zuko had been able to tell that something was amiss when this place was constantly rustling and chirping with animals. She held her hand out and minimized the fire around them; it would do no good to have a forest fire in the forest they were stuck in.

Azula turned to look at Zuko, who had two opponents left from his half of those thieves. She felt a trickle of pride; of course she had always been quicker and more talented than Zuko, but it was nice to really see how much more efficiently she got the job done, even in the middle of a forest, away from home. Even if he was capable, she was still faster. She aimed a final attack at one of his opponents just as the other fell, and Zuko took it in stride, huffing loudly in a sigh as he put his hands on his hips. Almost as if they had planned it that way.

"Well," Azula declared, still energized from the adrenaline. "That was easy."

Zuko glanced at her for a moment, rubbing his elbow. She wondered if he had gotten hurt; he looked the same way he had looked before the fight, though. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Of course I'm okay," she said, surprised he would even ask. They had both fought large numbers before. It wasn't like this was all that new.

"I mean your arm."

"Oh," Azula looked over to her new slash, still bleeding on her upper arm. She had nearly forgotten it. "Yes, I'm fine." She tore what remained of her sleeve off and began to fold it, intending on tying it around the wound to absorb some of that blood. The injury itself was not lethal, and it didn't hurt that badly if she wasn't moving her arm around. A long slash on the upper part of her arm; at least that arrow hadn't stuck into her. Then she really would have had a problem. Satisfied with her new bandaging job, she glanced back to her brother, who had moved closer to some of the burned trees, listening to something else. She prepared herself for another attack, irritated and yet somewhat thankful that he was able to already pick up the noises in this place that weren't normal.

But she heard this one too.

It was like a galloping, running kind of noise. Something heavy. It definitely didn't sound human.

It sounded like an ostrich-horse, or an armadillo-llama. Either of which would have been a wonderful thing to have, since they would be stuck traveling many, many miles on foot without one. What could they lure it over with? Azula thought, and Zuko promptly took off running.

_"What_ are you doing?" she yelled at him, exasperated.

"Catching it!" he called back, and aggravated, not wanting to remain here for when the knocked out kidnappers revived, Azula followed. Zuko was not fast enough to catch a running animal! Was he crazy? They should have made a _plan_ to lure it over; perhaps identified its location first and _then_ set a trap or something. This was a foolish idea. And what if the creature had a rider? They would have to deal with that, too. Did he not know how to think things through?

She had caught up to her brother, running the best that he could, and she could still hear the creature galloping not too far away. Squinting ahead, she could see a flash of brown from the creature's body. It had to be an ostrich horse, as everyone knew that armadillo-llamas were usually bred to be more of a tan color. There did not appear to be a rider. It must have been an escaped one from maybe the kidnappers' campsite. Or perhaps it had gotten lost in the forest; perhaps they were getting close to a town!

"Go jump on him!" Zuko told her, seeming to realize that she was much faster than he was. "Grab his tail!"

"And be dragged for miles?" Azula retorted. "I don't think so. That's a terrible plan," she paused, collecting her ideas, and she saw how hard he was working to keep up with her. It was almost funny. "I'll go around and slow it from the front, and you'll be able to catch up from behind."

"Okay, go!" he agreed, and she dashed forward, through trees and bushes and bugs, determination and leftover adrenaline providing the energy. Azula watched the ostrich-horse running, noticing the slightest incline toward the left side. Perhaps it was turning. She took off towards the left, trying her best to be as silent as possible, but with the shrubbery everywhere it was hard to not have some kind of rustle. Her muscles and her upper arm protested the pressure, but that didn't matter. If they caught this animal, they would be riding the rest of the way back, and that was something that was invaluable.

Azula cut in front of the beast, her hands up, and it ran to the side, avoiding her. She moved with it, cutting in front of it again, trying to make it stop, or pause long enough for Zuko to catch up. If they stopped it at both ends, it wouldn't be able to escape. Hopefully, they wouldn't frighten it too much.

Stricken by a sudden inspiration, she threw one hand out and sent a burst of flame ahead of them, straight into the creature's path. It screeched and came to a quick halt, panicking. She ran out in front of it and tried to calm the animal, but in the presence of the flames it seemed to be having a hard time. "Shh," she said, diminishing the fire. She had never been good at this reassuring stuff. Animals usually didn't trust her, which didn't matter, since she had never really liked them all that much.

This one seemed to be doing okay now, though it eyed her warily as she approached. Perhaps it trusted her more, watching her decrease the flames. The ostrich-horse was not a very pretty-looking animal, she decided. Its big eyes glared at her and the skin on its neck was spiked and matted and filthy; it overlapped around a rope that was tied around its neck and broken at one end. It even had a collar. It must have broken free of somewhere.

"Pent," she read from the collar, looking up at the hideous creature in front of her. She heard Zuko come crashing out of the trees and he stopped several feet away, slowing himself. His mouth moved as though he was considering a smile, but he abandoned it.

"Good job," he said to her, touching Pent's back, his hand falling on a brown bag that was strapped around the animal's neck, something that she hadn't noticed. Zuko untied it, visibly interested, and Pent just looked at him, seeming less wary now that they had proven they weren't hurting him. The bag was filled with a few coins, a single knife, and a canteen.

He pulled the canteen out and weighed it in his hands. He opened the top and sniffed it cautiously. Such a peasant he was, she thought, and she wondered what he was checking for. Poison? Alcohol? He seemed to consider something and then put the opening from his mouth and drank from it, just a little bit.

"Drink the rest of this," he said, and he handed it to her. She might have minded about the sharing aspect of it, but she found that she was too thirsty to care that much, and she drank from it as well, draining the rest of it in one go. There wasn't much in there. Well, hopefully they would find a town or something soon. With the addition of this ostrich-horse, it would surely be much faster than it would have been on foot. And then they would be able to get back to the Fire Nation, and everything would work out just perfectly.

Feeling rejuvenated, now that she had drank something for the first time today, Azula watched as Zuko strapped the bag back around Pent's neck, putting the now empty canteen into it. All they needed now was to get to the next town, so they could bully them into giving them food and supplies. Perhaps even an eel-hound; she knew that eel-hounds were far faster than ostrich-horses, but Pent would do for now. Things were looking up. She hoped that when they got to the next town, it would be one conquered already by the Fire Nation so they could make it a quick stop before they got their ride back to the Fire Nation. Although, if they found an unconquered town, then conquering it would _really_ do wonders for proving their worth to Father. She had conquered Ba Sing Se, after all. She knew how it was done. Add in the Avatar, and they would be swimming in honor. Well, _she_ would.

It was unfortunate, she thought, that after how helpful Zuko was out here, that he would eventually just be imprisoned.

Forever.

Critically, she watched him climb up onto Pent's back, almost wishing that Pent would knock him off, if only to entertain her, or validate the idea that he was incompetent. That he deserved this destiny. Zuko, who had once gone a whole week without eating; Zuko, who had realized others were in this forest before she had; Zuko, who found them a way of travel by noticing this damn animal. He could be so frustrating, and it was hard to articulate why.

He gestured to her, like he was their leader or something, and still annoyed, Azula hoisted herself up behind him, looping her arms loosely around his middle. Even though it was somewhat uncomfortable to be squished here together with Zuko on Pent's back, she had never felt so much relief at sitting. She felt him sigh heavily as he pressed Pent forward, and she realized that he must be very tired too. Especially with that wound in his side, she remembered; he was still hurt. How was he even walking around like this? How was he fighting people off and chasing a wild ostrich-horse into the forest? How had he noticed that there were other people in the trees? How had he noticed that there was an ostrich-horse running around? She hadn't noticed until she saw him listening.

Zuko was not better than her, she reminded herself. He just had the experience of living this way. She was still smarter and quicker and more talented than he was. After all, he had needed her to help catch up to their new ostrich-horse because he was slower. They would not have gotten Pent if it wasn't for her. And she had been a great fighter when those kidnappers had dropped in. Surely he would not have been able to take all of them alone. It was lucky for him that some of them had run away.

Some of them had run away.

Azula felt her blood run cold; those thieves and kidnappers could be hiding in the trees right around them, right now. What if they were shot at again? No, that wasn't possible; she had hurt that archer with the bow and arrow. What if there were more of them though? Those criminals could attack them in the night while they slept, and with a terrible jolt, Azula realized that she might not be able to tell. Zuko had been the one to notice that something sounded off about the forest. If she was not with him, then how would she know the difference? Everything sounded noisy with the bugs and rustling everywhere. Listening more carefully just wasn't an option. She had not yet become acclimated to the sounds of this place.

The idea that she needed Zuko with her made her stomach twist, but she didn't have to tell him that. She only had to make sure he didn't stray far from her. She remembered last night when they had made their own little spaces far apart from each other. They had to stick together this time. It was only for a little while. They would be back to the Fire Nation soon, and then things would all be set right.

They traveled until the sun had completely set in the sky and it was dark. The sky was cloudy and it was getting difficult to see much in front of them, though it was clear that they were coming into a more open area; the trees were further and further apart. It must have meant that a town was near, Azula reasoned, relieved that they would be out of this place soon. She rubbed her eye with one hand, knowing that they would need their full strength again in order to properly boss around a town. They were going to have to rest soon. Tomorrow would be the day. And then they'd be on their way home. 28 days was plenty of time. She was the princess. She could make that happen.

In front of her, Zuko stifled a yawn with his hand.

"Let's rest," Azula suggested, setting her hand on his shoulder for a moment.

"Okay." He agreed so readily that she wondered if he had just been waiting for her to decide when they would rest. Perhaps he did not want to admit that he was tired too. He slowed Pent to a stop and then hopped off, stumbling on his landing. She slid off, determined to not trip up in spite of her exhaustion, and she scanned the ground for a suitable place to lie while Zuko tied Pent to a nearby tree with the rope that had remained on his neck.

"I'm gonna find a place to sleep," he told her, focused on his tying. "So, goodnight."

"Don't go too far," she warned, and it almost sounded like it was proper caution instead of her way of making him stay nearer to keep them both safer.

"Why?"

She wondered how he had ever survived out in the wild when he was so ignorant of human behavior. He may have known how to fight and notice when things were out of the ordinary, but this was more important! Predators attacked when there was less chance of their prey defending themselves. Especially when their prey was by itself. People who were alone were incredibly easy targets, just plain sitting turtle-ducks. Especially after the attack they had stricken on the group of thieves and kidnappers.

"Some of those thieves could still be out there," she pointed out, kicking some leaves into a little pile. It was cleaner than a dirt bed, at least.

"We got pretty far on our ostrich-horse," Zuko responded, but he paused, turning his attention to Pent, having finished his knot. He was thinking about this.

"They might have had one too," Azula reasoned, and that much was very true. Who knew what resources those kidnappers had? There were many of them, after all. "You never know."

"Are you trying to protect me or something?" he asked incredulously, arching his one eyebrow. "I can defend myself. I've done this before."

"I'm not trying to protect you," she snapped, refusing to acknowledge that she was trying to protect _herself_. "I'm just trying to open your eyes, dummy. I'd hate to tell father you were killed by thieves because you wanted to be alone, and you had this silly idea that an ostrich-horse would take us far enough away from them." She shook her head at him like he was a complete fool, but she knew that he wouldn't go far now. She had him. "Just do whatever you want, Zu-zu. See if I care."

"I wasn't going far anyway," he told her defensively, skimming the ground briefly. "I'm not leaving you alone with our stuff." Zuko settled himself in a spot on the ground with minimal leaves, only a few feet away. It was essentially a dirt pile. Azula pressed her lips together in disapproval and irritation. So he thought that she was going to steal their stuff, did he? Well, that just proved to her that she should be more watchful of him anyway. He turned on his back in the dirt, looking up at the sky. Ugh, he was filthy. He wasn't even trying to be dignified. She noticed that his ankle was scraped and bleeding, and she wondered when that had happened. Probably when he decided to chase after Pent so unexpectedly. He didn't have shoes. It could have been any time, really. It didn't matter though. If he woke up to attack some intruder, than she would wake up too. There was some comfort in that. She wouldn't concern herself with his suspiciousness and rudeness right now. He would get his eventual reward for that anyway. And she would be glad about it. So there.

She sat back against a tree on her little bed of leaves and crossed her legs at the ankle, several feet away from him. She wondered what was happening in the world. Did the people of the Fire Nation think she was dead? Would they hold a funeral in her honor? Or _worse_, would they hold a funeral jointly for her and Zuko? What an insult that would be, to not even give her an individual funeral; that wouldn't be fair if she had to share such a thing with Zuko when she was worth so much more than he was. _And _she was younger, which proved even more that she deserved to be honored on her own for her greatness. And with the two of them presumed dead, who would become the heir of the Fire Nation? There were no more children from the previous generation, and Father wouldn't live forever. Heavens, what if Father conceived a new heir before they even returned, and then she would have to prove her worth over some insolent child? Well, at least it was easier to defeat a child. And it already was far too late for Zuko to redeem himself. She shouldn't have to worry.

But surely she was over-thinking the whole situation—perhaps no one knew about this. The soldiers on board the airship could have easily continued flying through the skies, with no word to the Fire Nation about the incidents that had occurred. In fact, she thought, they probably had done just that. Imbeciles.

Azula sighed and leaned her head against the tree. Immediately, her head felt itchy, and she scratched at it, irritated at the whole world and the insects that flittered fearlessly about her body. It was abandoned and lonely here in the middle of the trees. How ridiculous that the only company a princess should have would be the insects and filth around her. And Zuko, she supposed, but he hardly counted. This whole day had to be an outrageous nightmare. Perhaps she would wake up soon and discover than Father had simply given her the right to rule the Fire Nation since he _did_ have the power to do that, if he so chose. It was annoying that he was putting them through so much for something he had the authority to do in one simple action. He could say the word and she would be heir, and Zuko could be a forgotten note in the back of a history book, if he was lucky. But she supposed father had his reasoning; he did have years of experience as the Fire Lord and he _had_ promised her the throne when they returned successful. She just had to prove herself. That was what it was about. It was fair, she reasoned, and she quietly let the sounds of rustling leaves and cricket-mice consume her thoughts.

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>Gosh I hope this was coherent. Lol. This chapter gave me such a hard time.<p>

Anyway, I plan for the next update in June. I am trying an "update once a month but hopefully more often if I can" schedule. :D Ah, I once had dreams of updating so much more often… then life happened.

Please review! :)


	5. Chapter 4: Rude Awakening

It's the last day of June! I have barely made my June deadline. :) Hooray! A special and glorious thank you to all you awesome people who have left me reviews on this story! I know I've already thanked you individually, but it means the world to me!

Lots of Azula introspection ahead. It was kind of important though, I think, to the events that unfold here. But there's some action, too! With all my love! Please read and review!

* * *

><p>Chapter 4: Rude Awakening<p>

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>A dry breath in. A rattling breath out. An attempt at a swallow that resulted in a horribly uncomfortable tongue sticking to her palate. It was like trying to swallow a bucket of sand on Ember Island.<p>

Normally, Azula very much liked the heat. But there was nothing to like about this humid, sticky, heavy heat. Her lips felt cracked. They had slept until the sun was high up in the sky, a long, thorough rest, but judging by the exhaustion in her bones, it felt as though she had gotten no sleep at all.

Zuko had told her that Pent would lead them to water. That had been hours ago.

Hours. And hours. And hours.

And hours.

So when they finally found a water source, a strip of river between the trees, it was like heaven had opened up in front of them. A glorious, glittering, watery paradise.

Pent hustled on over, immediately drinking from the river water, getting right in the weeds and the dirt of the riverside. Azula had not really considered the ostrich-horse's needs; the idea that Pent may have been also tired and thirsty had never really crossed her mind.

Stumbling and a touch light-headed, Azula climbed off of the animal and knelt in the weeds by the river, and she heard Zuko staggering around as well, more uncoordinated than usual because of the weariness of the past few days. Well, two days. This was day two.

It was hard to believe, really, that it had only been two days.

They sat at the riverside for hours, drinking and quietly basking in the wonderfulness that was hydration. Azula had never thought that she could appreciate water so much, even though instead of a cup, as was proper etiquette, she had to use her two hands together to gather the liquid. Water flowed through her veins and undried her throat. She had never been fond of the element, but it was hard to deny the relief at finding it. They hadn't had food in so long, several eternities it felt like, but she had forgotten the pain of hunger in lieu of the awful discomfort of thirst, especially after such heavy activity and heat the day before.

"This river," Azula commented, dipping her hands in the water to rinse her face off. She should not be dirty, after all. Not like Zuko, who had a brown smudge on his good cheek and little rips in his clothes, looking frightfully common. She was still a princess, no matter where she was located. "Settlements always gather around a water source. We must be close to a town or village."

"I have an idea," Zuko said abruptly, looking down at his bare legs dipped into the flowing water as he sat himself on the river's edge . "Climb up one of the taller trees and see if you can spot a village in the distance."

This was such a good idea that Azula was annoyed that neither of them had thought of it before. Why hadn't _she_ thought of that earlier? For all they knew, they had passed a town yesterday and had never noticed because they hadn't thought to climb the trees. Dammit! "Why don't _you_ climb the tree?" she replied, looking up at the height of the tree and recalling the soreness gained from the commotion of the previous day.

"You weigh less," Zuko pointed out. "You'll probably get up higher than I would."

She could not argue with this. She would probably get the job done faster, too. Sighing in exasperation, Azula got to her feet, and she looked around the trees to find the tallest one. "So, in summation, I'm better than you."

Zuko rolled his eyes, and Azula approached the tallest tree in sight. The branches were very high up—she would have to get a running start to even _try_ to reach them, especially considering her shorter stature. And she would have to be careful; not only did it appear to be the tallest, but it seemed the thinnest as well. One false step, and she would fall right out, taking the branches with her. She could do it, though. She knew that she could. She had always been perfectly nimble and quick, and now she had the rejuvenating water energy pulsing through her body, success was basically guaranteed.

After taking a few steps back, Azula dashed forward, leaping toward the tree… but the branches stayed just barely out of reach; she had been so close. Damn, that was embarrassing. She backed up farther and tried a second time. Then a third.

She was simply too short to reach.

"So much for being better than me," Zuko remarked, leaning back on his hands and watching in vague amusement.

She disregarded that comment. "Hurry up and give me a boost so we can move on with our lives."

He frowned, as though he would argue with her, but after a moment, he opted instead to sigh, slowly stepping out of the river and making his way over. He bent in front of her and held his two hands out together, creating a small step for her.

Azula stepped into his hands and then promptly took another step onto his shoulder and then his head. Standing on his head, even as he stooped slightly, she was able to reach the branches easily and began her climb into the tall tree.

"Dammit, Azula!" Zuko snapped, sounding aggravated—she wasn't looking at him to verify this fact. "I meant for you to stand on my _hands_! I was going to lift you."

Ignoring his indignance, Azula continued the climb. She quickly made it to the almost-top, proud of her continual nimbleness and speed, and she looked out to the vast expanse of the world around them. In the left, it looked like there was a large desert ahead. The trees faltered out and became a sandy-looking wasteland. On the right, the trees thinned, but she could see the tops of houses, little chimneys unused because it was summer, the roofs of a marketplace, perhaps. A town!

"There's a town over there!" Azula exclaimed, gesturing out toward the right side. They would be going home! Judging by the lack of smoke and flags, it did not look as though this town had been conquered by the Fire Nation, but that was okay. Just because it was unconquered did not mean that it had no resources that they could take advantage of. Though it _did_ mean that they might have to bully the people into listening. Azula knew quite well how it was done. If only they had time to stay and conquer this place… no, they had better just get supplies and move along. Perhaps after capturing the Avatar, they could return and claim this town. Well, _she_ could return. Not Zuko. He wouldn't be able to. He'd be imprisoned…

Pushing that thought from her mind, Azula began the climb down, which was slightly more challenging than the climb up. Only a few days to get home from here, and then they would be back to the real mission. Things were looking up. What a lovely day it was shaping up to be—water and now a town. This was the way destiny was _supposed_ to be.

Then there was an ominous creak from the tree.

She stepped down onto a thinner branch and heard a terrible crack as it split under her weight—it felt like the world had fallen from beneath her feet, and her hands fruitlessly scrambled for the nearby branches.

A gasp escaped her throat as she quickly assessed her situation. The worst distance to fall; too far to emerge _completely_ unhurt, too close to propel herself forward with a perfectly timed jet from her feet. It would only be a bruise though; she would be okay… but then she heard Zuko's scratchy voice and felt the heavy arms clamp down around her middle, a clumsy catch from behind. She slipped partially through his arms in the speed of the fall, and he lost his balance, stumbling backwards. And just like that, they were sitting in the dirt, and the adrenaline was still flowing through her veins, mixed slightly now with the vaguest touch of annoyance.

That had been a really nice thing to do, she realized, for him to try and catch her. He had always been kind of sensitive. Even if she hadn't needed the help; it would have just been a bruise or something. Maybe a scratch. Maybe she would have gotten winded or hurt her back. Nothing major.

Damn him.

Her shirt had gotten pulled up a bit from the velocity, and she glared at her brother, hastily pushing away from him and adjusting her clothes. "Thanks," she murmured, sullen and quiet, an obligatory thanks, and she got back to business, pointing in the direction of the village. "We have to go this way."

Zuko nodded at her and went to Pent, who sat insolently by the riverbank, and he pulled on his rope. "Come on," Zuko coaxed, trying to pull the beast into a standing position. Pent just looked at him, seeming determined to remain here by the river and the shady, tall trees beside it. She almost couldn't blame him, in the summer heat. Though it was getting a bit cloudy now in the afternoon.

Azula waved her hand at him. "Just let him be. We're going home after this, remember? We'll have better transportation."

"Alright," he agreed, and he took the bag from Pent's back. He took out the little canteen and bent by the river, filling it up with water, and then he strapped the bag over his shoulder. It was a smart decision, she thought grudgingly, and she tried not to think any more positive thoughts of him. Not that there were any forthcoming. After all, there was a prison cell in the Fire Nation with his name on it after all of this was over. Heaven forbid she become attached to him.

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>It was about a fifteen minute walk from the river, which wasn't horrible. The town was a very nice, clean-looking place. This was the kind of place that one really needed reinforcements to conquer; the citizens did not look weak and trembling. They were proud and confident, and they wore decent clothing. The shops were thriving and busy. This was good information for the Fire Nation army once they returned home. <em>Welcome to Gaoling<em>, the sign read. Azula tried to remember where this was on a map, but the only thing that she could recall was that they were in the Earth Kingdom.

"Do you know this town?" Azula asked Zuko as they entered the marketplace.

"I'm sure I've been through here," he said. "I don't remember it much."

"Let's meet back here in a fifteen minutes," Azula instructed. "I'll get some transportation, and you get some supplies."

And he was off. He walked right into the throng of people and she lost sight of him right away. They'd meet here soon anyway, right here beside the large bulletin board. Azula observed the marketplace around her. This was clearly a wealthy town. Each shop had a store of its own, just like some of the higher end Fire Nation shops. She remembered passing through villages with wrecked and messy marketplaces, places just teeming with peasants and their associated nastiness. A wealthy place like this would be a good place to conquer later, an excellent asset to their nation.

"Excuse me," Azula addressed a woman who was passing by. "Tell me where I might find transportation."

The woman looked at her nervously. "I don't know," she said. "Good day."

And she hurried away before the princess could insist on more information.

Azula frowned, and she stood with her hands behind her back, her posture impeccable. Silly hussy. Azula entered the nearest shop, looking around at the products on the walls. This was a clothing store. All the clothes were shades of green and yellow and brown. The colors of dirt and nature. Hideous Earth Kingdom clothes. No wonder this place was empty.

The shop owner, a middle aged man with spectacles, stood behind a counter, cutting a pale green cloth with a large knife. A store owner such as this man should know the information she was seeking. He would know the layout of the town.

"You," Azula said to him, complete authority in her voice. "Where is the shop that sells transportation? Such as eel-hounds or a wagon, perhaps."

The man gasped at her and promptly threw his knife, aiming it right to her head. Reflexively, Azula ducked down, her two hands positioned in a defensive stance. What in the world was going on? The knife stuck into a brown shirt behind her.

"Get out!" the man shouted, opening a drawer under the counter and pulling out several more knives.

"Just _what_ do you think you are doing?" Azula demanded. "Do you know who I am?"

"Criminal!" he shrieked, throwing another knife, and Azula deflected it with a forceful, well-timed burst of fire. The man practically screamed, and he ran into an adjoining room, the door slamming and locking behind him. The store was deserted. Azula lowered her hands, slightly disconcerted. What in the _world_ was his problem?

A criminal? Surely she did not look _that_ unkempt, though the past day of wandering around the forest had likely taken its toll on her personal appearance. She remembered how dirty Zuko looked and feared the worst. But she had washed face today. Perhaps there was a mirror around here somewhere where she could properly assess herself. She would have to keep an eye out.

Azula stepped out of the shop, her gaze falling upon the large bulletin board in front of the store, a directory of sorts. Perhaps the board would help direct her where to go to find transportation. There was an ad about hiring a nanny for some spoiled little kid, and an ad about a stolen poodle-monkey. Why someone would steal a poodle-monkey was beyond her. Those animals were probably the ugliest creatures she had ever seen, and she remembered Pent's homely face. Her eyes turned to the wanted poster section, falling promptly on Jeong-Jeong, someone she vaguely recognized. A wanted poster for the Blue Spirit, a wanted poster for a runaway girl, a wanted poster for… she stared.

And her own face stared back at her, right next to Zuko's.

That couldn't be right.

She blinked forcefully, clearing her vision a bit. The lack of proper sustenance was causing a hallucination, most likely.

She opened her eyes. It was still there.

She couldn't look away from it. Since when had she forgotten how to move? Since when had it become so difficult to breathe? This was unreal. No, this could _not_ be real.

"_The Fire Nation orders the arrest of Fire Princess Azula and Fire Prince Zuko. Both have committed acts of high treason involving deception, murder, and fraud. Approach with caution. Reward alive: 3000 gold pieces; Reward dead: 2000 gold pieces."_

Azula snatched the poster from the wall, crushing the sides of the parchment in her hands as she scrutinized it. How could this be? Did the Fire Lord really approve these posters? He wouldn't do that. Surely someone had just scribbled it up here intending to make a scene of some kind. Some people were just dumb, she rationalized; she certainly had seen Mai and Ty Lee do some silly things. But how many posters had she held in her hands with Zuko's wanted face on them; they had felt just like this. They had all been written in perfect calligraphy, all with the red seal on the bottom corner. Just like this. But this couldn't be happening. It was fake. It _had_ to be fake. A forgery job by a talented idiot who didn't know who they were dealing with.

But if so, this was one hell of a forgery…

Had Fire Lord Ozai abandoned them? But… why would he do that? He wouldn't! He had _told_ her that she could be the heir to the Fire Nation. He had _told_ her! But now they had a price _dead or alive_? Dead or alive, the poster said! _Dead or alive! _There was a small, quite miniscule, consolation in knowing that they had been worth more alive than dead… but really. She was the princess of the Fire Nation! She was talented! Beautiful! Poised! This could not be.

Her throat hurt. She wanted to burn this poster into ashes, but she dare not light it aflame in public. This poster might have been up for a long time—the last thing she needed was to attract attention and have someone recognize her from it. Although that shop owner… he had tried to attack her. He must have seen this poster. He remembered her face. Oh damn, they had to get out of here. Was this how Zuko had felt when he had been wanted? Surely not, as he had _never_ been favored by Father—it wasn't the same to lose something that you never really had. Oh heavens, if _anyone_ who remembered the poster saw Zuko's face, they _both_ would be screwed. No one else looked like him. There was no mistaking that scar. If someone recognized Zuko, they would likely recognize her through association. They were on the same poster. The _same damn poster_! She didn't even get her _own_ stupid wanted poster! Had she been so devalued by the Fire Nation? By the Fire Lord? It was like they were on the same level! She, the same as Zuko! The idea was just silly. Hurtful.

Now her breathing was getting a bit difficult. This was an over-reaction, she reasoned; she tried to shake herself free of this. This wasn't a _real_ poster; it couldn't be. Someone else had planted it here, maybe the airship crew as a precautionary measure. Yes, that definitely was what happened. Why had she even doubted it? After all, Father had _told_ her, to her face, that he was giving the throne to her. He wouldn't do _this_ to her. He wouldn't. She was his daughter. He wouldn't _lie_ to her! He had always lied to everyone else; he had always told _her_ the truth, told _her_ the secret plans when everyone else was misled. He _wouldn't do this. _Would he do this?

"I found a map," Zuko had found her, unharmed even though he wore his scar very visibly in the afternoon sun. How had he been uncaught when she had been noticed? That wasn't fair. _She_ wasn't the noticeable one on the poster. "So, according to this, we're…" He cast her a glance and then paused, letting his sentence trail away as his eyes read hers. "What's wrong with you?"

"We need to leave," Azula said promptly, as though he hadn't asked anything. Without even waiting for a response, she started stomping toward the forest they had come from. There was no destination, but she walked with purpose, and she could practically feel Zuko's eyes on her back.

"Why?" Zuko asked, his map lowering as he watched her from his spot instead of following. "What happened?"

She stopped and whirled around, her face burning with heat. "Get over here right this instant!" she hissed, pointing to the spot she stood in. "I am leaving this place immediately, and _you should too _if you know what's good for you."

He stared, completely bewildered as she stormed away. It almost was funny. Almost. There was too much buzzing through her mind. Her throat had never felt so constricted. Oh, lord, it was so hard to swallow. She did not even want to try and speak, though perhaps if she screamed it would right everything and erase the horribleness.

"Wait!" Zuko was calling to her. He was so confused. He had no idea what was going on. Loser. He would find out eventually. She was going to have to tell him. She knew something that he didn't know, something radically important. Something that was a terrible, awful possibility. Something unreal. Something that she didn't want to speak. If she spoke it, it might become real. This couldn't be real.

She was well into the trees when she felt his hand grasp her elbow, pulling roughly on her arm to make her stop. "Azula!" he demanded, squeezing tightly to her wrist, probably to keep her from breaking away. "_What_ is going on? What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with _you?_" Azula retorted, unable to contain it. She smashed her hand into the map he still held by one hand, knocking it to the dusty ground, and she yanked her arm from his grasp with a glare. "Walking around without hiding your stupid face, when everyone who is _anyone_ would know that big, ugly scar of yours. You're famous, you fool!"

"This map was hard to find, Azula!" Zuko exclaimed, bending and snatching the map from the ground. The dust of dirt had managed to fuse itself to the parchment. He hardly seemed to notice her offensiveness in the light of her violence toward the map.

"Well, that's the least of our worries," she snapped, digging into her belt, and with a proper flourish, she unfurled the crinkled poster and held it open in front of him. His eyes moved slowly, reading every word, and in vague satisfaction, she watched his face pale. This _hurt_ him. This was _his_ problem too. His lips moved as though he would speak, but he didn't seem to know what to say, and Azula just watched him, one hand on her hip, one hand on the poster, like this whole thing was his fault. In some ways, it could be.

"Where did you find this?" Zuko asked finally, his voice hoarse. He tore his eyes away from the parchment, and Azula crumpled it into a ball, keeping the horribleness locked in a tight fist.

"Where do you _think_ I found it, idiot?" she retorted, gesturing toward the direction the town they had just left. "I found it with all the other stupid posters on that wall. Where the hell else would I find it?" She shook her head at him. "Ugh, I can't believe I am stuck out here with you. I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe—"

And then the worst thing in the world happened.

Her voice cracked. She covered her mouth briefly with one hand, looking anywhere in the world but at Zuko. She did not have the words for this madness; she had no idea how to express the new wild thoughts that formulated and quickly unformulated in her head.

"Lunacy," she muttered, steadying herself with a slow breath. It would be fine. She refused to look at him. She couldn't deal with this right now. It couldn't be happening. That poster was fake, so blatantly fake if she just thought about it, but then why did this whole thing pain her so badly, worse than anything she could remember? There was that possibility that it was real. But it was only a small chance. She had to keep it together. Keep it together. Stay calm. She closed her eyes, just barely a second, to avoid seeing him even in her peripheral vision, to regain her composure, but that was a mistake, oh _damn_ how it was a mistake.

An inexplicable wetness in her eyes flooded down her cheeks; the single most mortifying moment of her life. Death would have been preferable. She hadn't even realized that her eyes were gathering moisture. The worst horror of all was the fact that weak, untalented Zuko stood right in front of her, a witness to this impossible event, witness to this slightest crack in her control. She breathed carefully, hastily wiping the embarrassment from her face before wrapping her arms around herself, squeezing her own elbows, wishing she was anywhere in the world but right here in front of him. This wasn't real. This was a nightmare. She should run into the trees and never look back.

She dared to open her eyes again, and her brother looked back at her, his brow furrowed, his lips slightly parted as though he had no idea what to say to her. He sounded very tentative when he spoke. "Are you… okay?"

It occurred to her that Zuko had never seen her so stressed out before. She didn't like this new experience, not one tiny bit. He had never seen her this way because he was _not supposed to_. She did not _exist_ in a weak state. No one was to see anything like this. This was not real.

"Yes," Azula hissed at him, but now her throat hurt worse than ever, a thick lump definitely forming in there. _Are you okay_—why did he have to ask such a dumb question? Swallowing felt difficult, and her eyes felt wet, and oh, how she hated herself. If he hadn't asked her anything like that, then she was sure she would have been fine. She didn't need his concern. She didn't need anything. She tried to swallow again, with difficulty. "I'm completely fine," she insisted. "Don't be foolish. Why shouldn't I be fine? This is obviously fake. Fake! Why would Father put out warrants for our arrests? We haven't done anything wrong. We…" But they _had_, hadn't they? They had _failed_ the Fire Nation by not destroying the Avatar when they had the chance. She changed tack. "I have been an excellent daughter! I have been a perfect princess. I don't deserve this! I—"

And then she choked on her words. Why, why couldn't she control herself? She was fourteen years old, for heaven's sake. She had never lost control of her voice like this, and hurriedly, she looked back at the town market in the distance for anything to distract her mind from this horror. The local deli was having a sale on bread, judging by their sign. So, that was nice.

"Azula," Zuko said softly, pure, unadulterated awkwardness radiating from him. She felt his hand contact her shoulder, the lightest of touches. Was he trying to make her feel better? This really was a nightmare. It was only a small moment, and he retracted his touch promptly. "It's… it's going to be alright."

It was the worst thing he could have said. She did not want his pity. Sympathy was for the weak. She was _not weak_. She did not want any focus put on this moment of weakness, this terrible stain on her life.

"It's _not_ _alright_," Azula snapped, shoving him away from her. "Are you out of your mind?" Her voice was a bit more high-pitched than usual, but it least it wasn't choking or wavering anymore. "It's not _going to be alright_!"

Zuko huffed, his face slightly pink. "What do you want from me?" he demanded. "I was just trying to…"

"Don't tell me stupid things," Azula interrupted, glaring. She thought she might die if he told her he had been trying to _make her feel better_. "There's no hope for us. We're lost in the middle of the Earth Kingdom with no resources or food or water. We're going to have to struggle and fight for the rest of our lives! We're all alone—nobody is going to support us Zuko. Even… even if this _is_ a fake poster, we'll be shunned by the whole world until we get it all figured out. I'm tired and sore and hungry, and I don't belong out here! I am a princess! Am I banished now? What am I going to do? I have _nothing_…" she realized that her thoughts were running out of control into her mouth, and she silenced herself, frowning.

"We'll figure something out," he murmured absently, looking at the ball of poster in her angry fist. He looked lost. "Don't be upset."

_Don't be upset_. She understood that he was trying to be nice, but the idea that she needed this niceness was quite infuriating. She could handle this. She could do anything. She did not need his sympathy. She did not need anyone to _make her feel better_. She wasn't weak. Azula needed nobody. _Don't be upset_. And just who did he think he was? As though he was trying to command her emotions.

Her anger promptly escalated, and she turned to him, the cruel words at her lips before she could fully consider them. "You don't even know the meaning of the word 'upset.' Father never loved you. You've lost _nothing_."

He looked at her in offended surprise. She had definitely crossed a line, a line that he had not expected her to cross for some reason. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know _exactly_ what I'm talking about," Azula said, relishing in his hurt. His indignance lit a fire in her heart, a mean, predatory fire. "Who do you think Father ranted to, all those years you were gone? He hoped you would never return. He regretted not killing you and getting it over with. He hated you."

"Well, you know what?" Zuko retorted. "He hates you too. Otherwise, it would only be _me_ on that poster."

It felt like someone had grabbed her insides and squeezed them with a hand made out of ice. Her blood ran cold inside her, dread and dislike whirling through her mind. Zuko was _wrong_. He could _not _be right, he just couldn't; he was just saying mean things because she had said them first. "You think you're so smart," she said, with as much dignity as she could muster. "You don't know _anything_. You are nothing."

"I'm not _nothing_," he defended. "You're just angry because you know I'm right."

"You are _not_ right," she snapped at him. She just hated him, everything about him. The way that his brow creased in the middle, the way that his lips pressed together, the way that his fists clenched and unclenched. The tension between them was thick and impossible to tolerate, and he was being so rude and uncalled for. She refused to stand for it. "You are foolish and _wrong_."

In one fluid motion, Azula stepped forward and abruptly shoved him, a hefty expression of her anger and confusion, knocking him back a few steps with the unexpected movement. Almost reflexively, Zuko shoved her in return.

Azula was propelled several feet from the force, and she knocked into a bunch of bushes, falling backwards over them, landing in the dry dirt on her back. For a moment, she felt like the air in her body had all been sucked out, the landing had been so harsh. It was hard to breathe. Stupid Zuko. Screw him. She would be _happy_ when he was locked away forever. She felt him moving closer, and she was pretty sure that she heard the sound of him gritting his teeth. She had provoked him into losing some of his control, too. It wasn't just her own control that had cracked away today. There was a strange satisfaction in that.

Even though she felt as though the wind had been stolen from her body, she forced herself painfully upward, glaring at Zuko as he approached. She refused to lay weak at his feet. She managed to get into a crouching position, hating her brother all the way; it had never been so difficult to catch her breath.

He met her gaze for a moment, an almost repentant twist in the downward curve of his mouth, and then he turned from her and began to walk away. She opened her mouth, intending to yell at him, to demand where he was going… but she found that her breath still had not fully returned to her. Damn him, she thought viciously, watching him leave. He had winded her, and it was just one stupid push. That was just obnoxious.

There was a low rumble of thunder through the air, and Azula looked to the sky. The clouds had become heavy and dark, swirling around the tops of the spaced out trees ominously. It was going to rain. Great. Of course this would happen when they were out here, lost in the forest outside of town. They didn't have a tent or anything to shield them if it started to storm—and from the increasingly dark sky, it looked inevitable.

Azula forced herself to her feet, her breathing still pained, but at least it was functional now. She hurried after Zuko, catching sight of him just a little while away. He didn't say anything to her even as she caught up, and with dignity, Azula dusted the dirt from her bottom. She didn't say anything either, and she let him walk slightly ahead of her. She would not acknowledge him.

It began to rain.

Azula glared at Zuko's stiff back from behind, her mind turning to its frustrated thoughts. She was stuck out here with Zuko. Lightning struck the sky. What were they going to do? Could it really be true that Father had sent out a warrant for them? He had told her that she would be the heir. Father had never, never lied to her. Not to _her_. She couldn't get over it. And now she was alone out here. With Zuko. Possibly forever.

It thundered again; the rain was falling more quickly, forcefully. No Father, no Mother. An Uncle who was locked up somewhere, who wouldn't have supported her anyway, even if he could, a cousin who was dead, long dead. Friends far away, too far to do anything or care. A brother who she fought with, who had never liked her and who never would. None of them liked her. None of them cared. She didn't care. Why should she care? She was strong enough to stand on her own.

The storm had worsened at an alarmingly rapid rate. The thunder seemed to shake the earth with each rumble and lightning cut across the sky viciously at regular intervals. The rain was pouring down in heavy sheets, and it was becoming impossible to see, even only a few feet away—and to make matters worse, the sun was disappearing behind the clouds, darkening the world and dimming the already faltering warmth within her. The ground was growing muddy and slippery beneath her feet, and Azula began to have a difficult time walking sturdily, the problem exacerbated by the fact that it was getting so hard to see in this mess.

"This is ridiculous," Azula commented to herself, looking for Zuko's back in front of her to glare at, as though the weather was his doing… and she found that she could no longer see him. The constant rain cast a dark gray sheet around her, and she realized that she had lost Zuko in the middle of her thoughts. "Zuko?" she called, moving more quickly in the direction they had been walking in; where on earth had he gotten off to? He had _just_ been in front of her.

There was no answer, and the thunder bellowed while the lightning cracked again in the sky, illuminating the world for a moment, long enough for Azula to see that Zuko was not at all in front of her. She could not see him anywhere. She had no idea where he was.

"Zuko!" Azula shouted, the smallest touch of anxiety trickling into her heart. Where the hell was he? He had just been in front of her! This stupid storm—if it would just clear up then she could see where she was going and stop slipping on the muddy earth… was she lost? She huffed in exasperation, wiping water from her face in vain, as it continued to pour thunderously. If she could just see more clearly, then she was sure she could get through with no problems.

Sighing, Azula leaned against a thin tree. There was nowhere to sit and rest, and she had no idea where she was. At least her breathing was back to normal now, though her back still ached from the impact to the hard dirt. She was pretty sure that the dirt on her body had translated into mud from the rain. She was filthy. Life was not fair. She was a princess. She _had been, _at least_._ What was she now? _She still was a princess_, she reminded herself. The poster, it was a fake, a total fake. She had to remind herself of this. It hurt too much to think of the alternative… the _reality_… no, it wasn't the truth! It was only a possibility. A painful one.

Zuko had probably just moved along on his own. He probably went back to the river, got Pent, and rode away into the afternoon. He knew how to travel like this. He didn't need her. Nobody really needed her, did they? Zuko didn't need her, Father didn't need her… the whole Fire Nation didn't need her. If they needed her, why would she be here alone in the pouring rain with the memory of a wanted poster burned into her mind forever?

Whatever. That was all okay because she didn't need them either. If Zuko had left her, then good riddance to him. She didn't care. If he wasn't around, it would be easier to get through towns anyway, being that he was so recognizable. If Zuko didn't come back with her when she returned to the Fire Nation, then all the better. She did not care. She tried to ignore the memory of the thieves and capturing Pent together in the forest and even when she had fallen out of the tree this morning. She did not need Zuko or his stupid help, therefore she did not care if he left. She could go back into town in disguise and ask for a ride out to the next village and eventually get to the Fire Nation. Or wherever. Well, why _not_ the Fire Nation? She had no proof that the poster was put there by the Fire Lord's troops directly. It really could have been the airship! That damn airship crew. And if it _was_ the airship, Father had to know about the mutiny! She had to get back home. She had to tell Father.

The lightning flashed across the sky again, and Azula sighed in frustration and an almost desperation. The heat mingled with the downpour had soaked her to the skin, and being drenched in this summer temperature felt strangely like being very sweaty. Ugh. She didn't deserve this.

"Azula!" came Zuko's voice, so sudden and close that she nearly jumped. He sounded angry, and she felt him grab her hand and pull. "Will you stop ignoring me? Come on this way."

"I wasn't ignoring you, idiot!" Azula told him, her heart pounding at full volume in her ears, louder than the wind and storm itself. "I couldn't hear you." But he wasn't listening, peering around at their surroundings through the hazy blur of rain.

"We're going back to the river," he directed loudly, though they were but a foot apart. He began to lead the way toward where they had left Pent, and she felt his hand slipping away as he meant for her to follow behind him. Refusing to be lost in the rain again, Azula held on tightly to his hand, her breath escaping her more easily, a heavy, embarrassing sense of relief. She did not want to get lost. There was just something good about not being alone, lost out here in the storm. That was all, and he didn't seem to care anyway; he just kept moving, determined to reach that place. What a nightmare it would be if they lost track of Pent… walking all across the world was not a prospect that Azula looked forward to.

The wind was getting very aggressive now, a howling and wild combination with the constant downpour. The good part about it was that it excused them from talking to each other, and Azula focused on her footing so she would not fall. She did not know how Zuko knew where they were going in this haze of rain. Maybe it was some obscure skill that he had picked up out on the run in the past years. Or just luck. That might be more plausible.

Suddenly, Azula felt a powerful tug on her arm from her brother, and she was holding too tightly to his hand to release it in time. Zuko gasped as he fell, and Azula fell right along with him, unable to break free. With a squelching sound, they landed together in the shallows of a river of mud and filth, a once peaceful area turned nasty from the rainstorm. Azula pulled her hand from him, righting herself immediately; this area was the most disgusting area she had ever been in. Not only was the muck deep and thick, but they had completely landed into it; ugh, she was completely coated in a layer of grime. She hated falling; she hated this mud and the feeling like she was so repulsively grimy. Dirty and unwanted. Azula reached up to her face and wiped a clump of unpleasantness away from her cheek. How glorious it would be to finally return home and bathe properly… _if_ they could return home. Surely they would figure something out. She ignored the ache in her chest and forced herself up onto her feet. The ground was slippery and wet with mud, but she managed to get through without falling again. Clumps of muck squelched as they plopped to the ground, and she looked down at Zuko through the gray haze beside her.

Zuko shifted slowly, pushing himself up by his two hands; he had also landed on his face. Azula wrung out the ends of her shirt, which had been pulled from under her belt, and she watched her brother struggle to get up as she untied her belt and readjusted her shirt, a very uncomfortable process with the cloth so heavy and wet from the continuous rain. Zuko took a step to join her outside the river shallows, but then he slipped again, landing on his back with a gasp.

She couldn't help it. Azula laughed, scraping the coating of filth off her front, and she waited for Zuko to get back up. She had needed a good laugh. It was good to know that even through their trials, she was still faster and better than him. But before she could make any scathing remark, Zuko sat up and drove his two fists simultaneously into the mess, groaning loudly in his frustration.

He cursed, looking down at the filth he sat in. "_Why_ is this _happening_?"

It was obviously a rhetorical question, but Azula's first inclination was to give him a scathing answer. Because you're weak. Because you're dishonored. Because Father doesn't want you. Because nobody wants you.

But she realized something awful. All of those qualities were hers now. They were certainly his, but they belonged to her, too. Because _she _had been weak. She had been dishonored. Father didn't want her. Nobody wanted her. And Zuko knew that. She didn't want to hear him tell her a terrible truth again.

_He hates you too. Otherwise, it would only be me on that poster._

Oh God. She couldn't think about it; it made her chest ache and her throat feel so thick that she did not think she could swallow. They had to get out of this pitiful place and move on. They had to make new plans and figure out their lives. They had to go to sleep and forget today.

"Come on," Azula ordered, reaching her hand out to him. "We're here at the river."

Zuko looked at her hand, his eyes mistrustful and suspicious and as shiny as a new gold coin. They were almost the only part of his face unobscured by the mud. His apprehension sent a surge of self-conscious heat through her face, and she was glad for the dirt so that he could not see it. She refused to retract her hand, as withdrawal was a clear sign of weakness. He looked mighty pitiful anyway. He needed help. And he had helped her before, too. So, she might as well.

"Hurry up, Zu-zu," Azula told him. "This is a one-time offer."

Zuko swallowed visibly, and after a moment, he took the offer. His hand was slippery and hot. With some effort, she helped pull him up, and they just managed to make it out of the mucky shallows of the river without falling again. With her pants chafing uncomfortably on her thighs, Azula was glad when she spotted Pent just a little while away, settled peacefully beneath a tree, sheltered almost completely from the rain.

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>It was only the afternoon, but the day had felt so long and painful that it could have been midnight already. The absence of the sun as it continued to storm was likely to be a factor. And together they all sat, cramped together in silence.<p>

Terrible, heavy silence.

Uncomfortable, tense silence.

Zuko had stripped his shirt away and laid it out against a large rock in the rain for a rinse. He stared out into the storm pensively, and Azula avoided looking his way because the sight of that scabby, dark wound in his side immediately drew her attention each time she looked over. She could see black lines of thread on it where a healer had stitched it, and it looked painful and terrible and a bit swollen.

Father had _stabbed_ him. He could have hurt her too, but he hadn't. Didn't that show that he cared about her? Didn't that show that he wouldn't lie to her?

The silence made the whole thing even more lonely. Was this her future? Hiding in caves and avoiding others? Only with Zuko to talk to, and it seemed like he was refusing to speak to her. He must have been angry, though she couldn't be sure about that; Zuko had always been a loner, a brooding, quiet boy. He silently looked in his little bag, as though he was searching for something, and Azula stared out into the gray haze, trying to erase the sight of the dark wound from her mind's eye.

"Here," Zuko said quite suddenly, and she looked over at him. He was holding something in his loose fist, extended toward her. She eyed the slightly dirty hand in distaste.

"What?"

"Take it," he told her, shaking his hand meaningfully.

Azula arched her brow, but she held her hand out to take whatever he was passing to her. He wouldn't try to trick her; he wasn't like that. She was the one who was like that. He dropped something small into her palm.

Her mouth fell open, and she found that she was temporarily unable to express a thought. "Oh my god," she said finally, taking the small item and bringing it close to her. She met his gaze, the gratitude rushing through her veins was untainted by annoyance or jealousy, quite unfamiliar. She didn't thank him, but her expression must have been clear, for she saw his eyes smile even though his mouth would not.

Food. _Bread_. This was a real, true piece of bread. For a moment, she thought that she loved him. The hunger had been a dull, consistent ache, something she had adjusted to and hadn't noticed through the day, and now it came roaring to her attention.

It was peasant bread. He must have gotten this from the market, that damn town. Grainy and tough to bite into… yet somehow, it was the most satisfying this Azula had ever eaten. "How did you ever go a whole week without food?" she asked rhetorically, folding her legs over each other.

Zuko shrugged one shoulder, touching his own little piece of bread to his mouth. "It was tough," he said, and sighed. "It was really tough."

Now the silence wasn't so bad. It was almost peaceful, comfortable. "You know," Azula said thoughtfully, a bit more revitalized by the presence of sustenance, "We could still find the Avatar. If we found him and brought him back to the Fire Nation, then we'd get a lot of honor for it. Especially after the hardship of having the airship crew turn on us."

Zuko leaned back against the trunk of the tree, more of a relaxed posture. "Maybe."

"What do you mean 'maybe?'" she mirrored his position, leaning against the tree. "It would work."

"I don't know, Azula," Zuko said bluntly. "I think Father intends us both to die out here."

"He does not," she disagreed. _Not me_, she thought desperately. "You don't know him as well as I do, Zuko. You were gone for many years. And you were never close to him anyway." He was looking off into the distance, brooding. She cast her mind back to the ideas that had developed when she had seen that damn poster. "That poster could have been placed in town by our airship crew. I'll bet they used messenger hawks to send them to the nearest towns after we were dropped. It was pretty clever of them to cover all of their bases, but we will be cleverer."

"I guess," he replied.

Although Azula had been unsure when she had considered these ideas previously, speaking the thoughts out loud gave them more power. They were more real. Of _course_ it was a fake poster. How had she ever doubted it? "I think our plan should be to keep looking for the Avatar while on our way back to the Fire Nation."

"You don't think that wanted poster was real?" he asked, a touch of disbelief in his tone.

"I don't think Father would do this," she explained. _Not to me._ It could not be real. There had been no need to stress about it. Even if the paper was the right type of parchment. Even if it had the official red seal. She shoved the ideas from her mind.

"If we're going to travel," he said, "We have to get Earth Kingdom clothes. We don't want to stand out."

"Yeah," Azula had finished her bread, and she crossed her arms over her chest. She wished she had more. "You are kind of noticeable. We ought to get you an eye-patch."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "So looking like a pirate is less noticeable than having a big scar?"

"Or we could dress you up as a mummy," she suggested, stifling a smirk. "I suppose there aren't many options for face coverings. Which would you prefer, a mummy or a pirate?"

"I'm going to sleep," he answered, not amused, slouching down into a reclining position against the tree. He was such a grouchy person. "Goodnight."

Azula watched the vestiges of the sun peering out from behind the dark clouds, just for a moment, but then the clouds reclaimed it again, plunging the late afternoon sky into stormy darkness once more.

"Goodnight."

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>I know that Azula goes back and forth believing the poster is real and believing it is fake. I think she would be so mixed up by this news that she wouldn't know what to believe, so I hope her confusion was not confusing. :D It's kind of like, deep down she knows that it is real, but DENIAL. Anyhow, let me know what you think of this chapter! It was a monster to work with. I would appreciate any and all reviews it so very much!<p>

The next chapter brings in a few familiar characters :D You will never, never, _NEVER_ guess who. In FACT, if you guess correctly in a review (or PM), I will make you a prize (a picture or a one-shot fic of your choice). I'll tell you if you're right or not in a reply. You only get one guess. :)

Until we meet again!


	6. Chapter 5: Wanderers

AAAH I'm SO SORRY, I'm soo late (almost 5 months...I am the worst). I kept changing my mind about the order of events for this chapter (there are legitimately like 6 _completely different_ drafts in my files), plus it's SO long, and I have just been SO busy. School and health and work and family issues galore. D: Plus… I am a perfectionist. :( This chapter is not as great as I want it to be (so please forgive me haha), but if I didn't update it soon, I was about to lose my freakin mind! I won't hold it up any longer, so onward! There is no way I can express how happy I am to be finished writing this chapter! I AM SO HAPPY!

Just want to throw a special shout-out to the one person who correctly guessed the new characters coming into this chapter: **Aurelia le**, who is glorious and smart, and whose fic you seriously _need_ to go read right after this chapter. I didn't think anyone would guess it correctly at all! So yay! Thank you for your guesses, I had such fun reading them and cackling maniacally :D _And thank you so much for all your wonderful, precious reviews! _You're all so great.

Find a comfy chair, this chapter is LONG. With all my love! :D

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>Chapter 5: Wanderers<p>

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>It was hard to sleep. The rain continued on into the night, the light pattering against the dirt distracting instead of relaxing. Azula's eyes ached with the desire to close, but everything about this place was distracting, and she couldn't get rid of the thought of that damn poster, floating to her mind each time she tried to close her eyes, shrouded in a red haze of hurt. Shrouded like a memory in the back of her mind, reminding her of a different day, an angry room…<p>

She thought of that place, the red hazy room that was all flames and excitement and heat, creeping up the walls like a disease. The air was practically rippling with the anticipation and foreboding, and the silence of the crowd was heavy enough to drown out the pouring rain any day. This day was history being made.

Fire Lord Ozai strode closer and closer to the pathetic little boy in the middle of the room. Ugh, it was a shame, a _travesty_ to be related to that pitiful being, begging and blatantly frightened as he was. He shouldn't have been acting so cowardly; he was bringing this all on himself. He had to learn respect. Luckily, the Fire Lord knew just the way to teach such a stubborn, wretched excuse for a prince. Suffering would have to be his teacher.

Thunder crashed through the arena, and Azula was aware of a _terrible_ sound, a grating, grinding sound, repetitive and aggravating. It was hard to tell where it was coming from, and Fire Lord Ozai was hardly perturbed by it as he extended his hand, just inches away from the boy's face, a threat, a last chance for the boy to stand up like the man he should be. But there were shining tears trekking down the boy's pale cheeks, and his eyes were wide pools of terror; he would not fight. Why wouldn't he fight? Backing down from a fight, _especially _a fight that he had technically instigated? Oh, he was in _trouble._ What a spineless thing to do; he was thirteen, for heaven's sake, he ought to know better.

That grating noise... it came and went in low, torturous cycles. It was the worst sound, pervasive and hideous, god, where was it coming from? It was the reason she could not sleep. She remembered how the Fire Lord stood, unimpressed. The soldiers and commanders and important people just stared. Why didn't he just try to fight? It wasn't like anyone expected him to win. This weakling needed a lesson. _And suffering would be his teacher._ She could practically hear Father's voice echoing in her ear and across the rippling, hot room as she watched, and she was _pleased._ He would be cast out forever, foolish prince. There would be no more competition for the throne or attention; she was the only one worthy of notice.

The irritating, rough sound, pressing on her brain was still heard over the fire lighting up, and you could just feel the heat rising in the room, all glory and power. The shameful boy shrieked, a singular, wailing cry, stumbling backwards in his agony. Suffering. He tripped over his legs but was unconcerned by the fall—his face, his smooth, pretty little boy face was burning away and his two hands tried unsuccessfully to smother it. And they all just _watched_. No one had a heart for him, no one would ever have a heart for him.

The boy shivered and trembled on the ground, reduced to something very small, a crumpled up, wounded, hysterical child. _Suffering_. His humiliation embarrassed her for a reason she could not articulate; he should have accepted his pain in silence and gratitude that his life had been spared. Instead of wailing and whimpering like that. What a terrible representation of royalty. He deserved to suffer. The Fire Lord knew best. Father knew best. If the Fire Lord said that this was to be a lesson to him, then it very well was, and he would never forget it.

Pathetic Zuko. He was lucky to be born. Lucky to be alive. He didn't even bleed or anything.

_Suffering_. The Fire Lord's voice still echoed across the chamber. She was looking right at his angry face. She could never forget his disappointment. Shiny, hateful golden eyes, and now _she_ was there in the arena.

"_How could you have been so mistaken_?" He hissed at her in all his power and rage. She should have done things differently; she should have told Father of Zuko's failure long ago, at the same time as their return from Ba Sing Se, perhaps. She had known for so long—she was guilty, too. Guilty, guilty, guilty. More guilty because she was smarter and talented. She ought to have known better. The fire was creeping around her now, and that poor boy was lost on the ground nearby, no longer conscious, maybe dead, definitely ruined forever. His quiet, peaceful face looked black and red and swollen on the one side, especially. The smell of the burned skin was pungent, sticking in her throat and burning into her memory forever.

"It wasn't my fault," she protested, amidst the scandalized whispers of the nobles and military surrounding them; the whispers were in the form of that scraping, rough sound, a sound that sent chills down her body. "_Zuko_ is the one who…"

"This is about _you_, Azula," came the hissing interruption, and the world still echoed suffering. _She _would be suffering. Suffering! Did she really deserve to suffer? Someone should help her! She was the princess! They didn't care; they just didn't care. But why? They just watched her too, just watched her as she prepared to begin her suffering. She could feel their eyes emitting heavy pressure on her back. Where was their loyalty? She was the princess, but it was like that meant nothing now. Suffering. Just like Zuko. She was _just like_ Zuko.

_She was Zuko._

The Fire Lord knew best. Didn't he?

She saw his big hand reach up and felt it contact her face.

Out came the flames.

The pain was so severe that Azula woke with a sharp gasp, flailing her limbs as she jerked herself into an upright position. The world was so dark; oh God, had the attack blinded her? Her head was throbbing and pulsating with pain, a deep, terrible headache unlike any other. She gasped for air, feeling uncomfortably like drowning, and she gripped her shirt tightly, squeezing it in a hot fist, and her eyes had never been open so wide, searching for anything, a movement or a light.

And then there was the moon, shining audaciously at her in the sky, bright and burning and definitely visible. She had her sight. She bit her lip, touching her cheek with one hand. Of course there was nothing there except for beautifully flawless, smooth skin. Maybe a tiny bit of dirt from lying on the disgusting ground. Ugh. She was so stupid. It was only a foolish nightmare. She often did not remember her dreams, which was all the better, since what the hell had _that_ been? She could still hear the Fire Lord's voice in the dark recesses of her mind, could still smell the burned flesh. But Father would never treat her like that. What a silly thought. She was the _princess_. He would never… he would never harm her.

It had been a long time since she had experienced such a vivid nightmare, and her head was still feeling the aftereffects of the migraine of the century, pounding in conjunction with the hammering of her heartbeat. She should try to get some sleep; that had hardly felt like any sleep at all. That was a memory gone awry. It hardly counted as sleep.

Then she realized that she could still hear that god-awful sound, that grating, scraping sound, and it was a lot louder now that she was awake and thinking about it. What the hell _was_ that? It only made the headache worse. Maybe it was something in the forest, watching them. Azula sat on her knees, and she conjured a flame in her upturned palm, the world illuminating bright blue around her.

There was Pent, curled into a ball, just a few feet away, just on the edges of their tree shelter. The light came on and he turned his face away, continuing to sleep without a problem, as quiet as could be. And there was Zuko, sleeping flat on his back, one arm draped over his middle, one bent behind him, a pillow for his head. Weirdly, it sounded like that terrible noise was coming from _him._ She scooted closer, frowning as she looked over him. If she closed her eyes, she could still see Zuko's dumb childhood face, his utterly devastated skin. His eye had been swelled up like a little balloon. God, it had been awful. But here he was, just fine, a terrorized boy who had grown into a grouchy teenager. He even looked like he was scowling in his sleep, his brow furrowed and his jaw moving slowly from side to side, in rhythm with the horrible grating…

He was grinding his teeth.

Somehow, knowing the source of the sound only made her headache worse, and she could not help but cringe. "Zuko," she whispered, more than willing to destroy his sleep pattern over that terrible sound. "Zuko, wake up."

Zuko stirred slightly, but when he didn't awaken, Azula gripped his jaw in her hand, forcibly ceasing its motion and stopping that rough noise right away.

This woke him up fairly quickly.

"What are you _doing_?" he demanded, shoving her hand from his face, and he propped himself up onto his elbows to glare at her.

"You were grinding your teeth," Azula told him, wincing at the mere memory of the sound. "It sounds absolutely awful. You have to stop."

"Dammit," he complained, more to himself than to her. "It took me forever to fall asleep." He rubbed his eyes, flopping back down on his back and draping one arm over his face to shield himself from the bright light of her fire. It occurred to her how easy it would be to attack him if she wanted to; he wasn't even looking at her, and his injured side was totally exposed. "Why are you even awake?"

"I had a weird dream," she answered, thinking about Father and how he had stood over Zuko, intent on ruining him for the sake of a lesson. "And your teeth grinding woke me up."

"Uh-huh," he said, not moving his arm.

"I dreamed that Father was burning up your face again," she added, watching him carefully for his reaction. His lips pressed together, recalling a painful moment. He turned over onto his stomach, folding his arms together and resting his face in them so she was completely unable to see it.

"I dream about that too, sometimes," Zuko murmured. His expression was hidden. She could see him in her mind's eye, curled into that crumpled ball, devastated and wounded. His charred and scalded skin, and the nasty blister that had formed right over his eye, a big bubble, and she remembered being in the room when they pulled off his bandages on the first night and how he had screamed and screamed and screamed… "Go back to sleep, okay?" he said abruptly, muffled by his arms. He must have noticed that she remained there, watching him, remembering something terrible. "I won't grind my teeth anymore."

Like he could really promise something like that. But Azula nodded, invisible to him, and she moved away, her eyes focusing on the blue ball of fire in front of her face. She should try to get some rest, but considering the memories and images that flashed into her mind when she closed her eyes, she just did not think that was a possibility. At least not until she cleared her mind.

She sat up straight, and even though there was no sun or warmth around them, she crossed her legs in preparation for meditation. She took a deep breath in, taking in everything about the world around her, the muddy ground, the drizzly rain, the questionable future that lied ahead of them, and that whispering paternal voice in the shadows of her mind, reminding her of a dark day, reminding her that Father had the power and it could have easily been her punishment. Then a deep breath out, letting it all fall away. Leaving nothing inside her. Nothing.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Nothing.

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>The meditation did well for her, her mind feeling more awake and content, <em>almost<em> able to push out the unhappy realities of their situation if she thought of other things. She sat in the warmth of the morning, the sun hidden behind the clouds, and she basked in the heat while Zuko woke up and meditated nearby as well. It was a quiet morning, peaceful, and she liked that. Things were going to be okay, and they even had a little bit of food that Zuko had picked up yesterday from town.

Azula sat across from him after the sun had risen, her legs crossed, as they ate their small breakfast, an apple each. She remembered with some yearning how they had been able to eat whatever they had wanted when they were home in the Fire Nation. Would they ever be able to have whatever they wanted again? Would they ever look clean again? She hated to picture what she looked like when she looked at Zuko and the random streaks of dirt that he wore.

The map was spread out on the ground between them, wrinkly and wet in some areas, but still mostly legible, with the exception of some of the towns around the bottom and around the Fire Nation. "Here is where we are," Zuko pointed to the southern area of the Earth Kingdom, surrounded by tiny spots of water damage. "And if we're going back to the Fire Nation, we have to go this way." He pointed toward the Fire Nation on the map unnecessarily; she knew where it was, for goodness sake.

"West," she clarified, after she had finished chewing a bite of her fruit. She pointed toward a thicket of trees. "That way."

Zuko arched his eyebrow at her.

"That's the direction the sun sets," Azula explained, patronizing. "Dummy."

"I _know that_," he snapped, flushing slightly. "I'm not stupid." Sometimes he was, but she wasn't going to argue the point. He smoothed out the map with one hand. "Anyway, we can get some stuff from Gaoling before we start heading west."

"Is what we get today going to last us until we reach the Fire Nation?" she pointed out. "We're going to be traveling a long time, even with Pent, and we can't carry all that much."

"Well," Zuko pointed to the illegible spot of a town above Gaoling on the map. "We can stop there if we need more supplies. We'll have to get over these mountains anyway, so we may as well." He moved his finger surrounding the town they were in. "We're pretty much surrounded by mountains. So far it hasn't been all that bad, but we're going to have to find a safe way through."

"Well, then we _should_ head toward this place," Azula gestured the smudged town. "There's probably a path leading up to it, if there's a town there. Then once we're there and back on smooth terrain, we can just head west."

Zuko frowned at the map, his fingers over this mystery town over the mountains. "I hope the rain reached up there too; they're close to the desert. I've been around some of the towns around here, and they were so dried out."

"We have to make sure we get new clothes," Azula said, ignoring him. It wasn't just because of the filth that she felt on her, but these clothes were clearly Fire Nation. They were red and gold, at least where you could see through the muddiness, and the material was a lightweight, smooth looking fabric. Earth Kingdom clothes looked nothing like this. "We don't want another group of thieves to come after us," she added. "We need disguises."

Zuko nodded in agreement, having just taken a bite of his apple, seeming to still retain some of the manners that royalty was supposed to have; you never spoke with your mouth full in the palace. That was a quick way to be labeled a commoner, a filthy peasant. He swallowed, and he said, "I saw clotheslines around the outskirts of town. We can find something without sticking out too much." He paused, gazing thoughtfully at Pent, who was chewing on grass a few feet away. Azula never wanted to return to that dumb town if she could help it, but there was no way in hell she was going to tell Zuko about that. "Do you think that Father would ever pay a ransom for us? Like, if we got kidnapped?"

She almost laughed. He must have been thinking about those thieves, now that the topic of disguises had come up. "If we ever got captured by a stupid gang like those thieves, we wouldn't _deserve_ to be rescued by Father."

"Yeah," he said slowly. "That sounds like what Father would say." He paused, raising his apple again to his mouth, covering it a little. "You're so much like him."

Azula shrugged, though she was unsure if he had intended this remark to be an insult or compliment. She ate the rest of her apple in silence, considering this statement. Father was the most powerful man in the world. He ruled the most powerful nation, and soon, he would rule over the world, with her preparing to take over his legacy when he was no longer capable of doing so. Why _wouldn't_ she want to be like him? Most of her life she had been striving to be like the Fire Lord, powerful and cunning and intelligent. It should be a very high compliment, and yet, somehow, in a way that was impossible to explain, she felt slighted. After all, Father was the reason that they were both sitting here in the dirty Earth Kingdom forests, possibly the reason that they had been attacked by their crew and the townspeople in the first place. _Possibly._ She watched Zuko finish his apple and throw the tiny core to Pent, who sniffed at it, and then ate the entire thing in one bite. Azula pursed her lips, and she did the same thing.

Zuko stood up and dusted off the backs of his pants; not like that did anything, since he was so dusted up and torn that he was going to look pathetic no matter what he did. He rolled up the map, tucking it into the waist of his pants, and he turned to face her. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>Azula did not like her new clothes, not one little bit, the main reason being because Zuko had restricted her options so much. Since when was he so picky about this kind of stuff? <em>No, don't take from that line. No, that's too fancy. No, that line doesn't have very much. We don't want to take their only clothes.<em> Like hell, she thought aggressively, shoving her arms into the sleeves of the vomit looking yellow colored top. _Any_ peasant should feel lucky that their clothes were helping the royal princess of the Fire Nation. If this was the only outfit the peasants had owned, well then they should have made better life choices. Then they wouldn't be poor, living on the outskirts of town like that.

She smoothed down the rough fabric, not for the first time wishing that she had a mirror. The outfit was comprised of a yellowy colored top that just went over her head, like a sack or something, and a greenish colored vest with sleeves over top of it. Then a pair of fraying brown pants that were longer than her body; she had to roll up the hem several times over for them to not drag all over the floor and become filthy. Not that you would be able to tell, since they were the precise color of the dirt that surrounded them. She kept her boots, easy to hide under the pants' heavy brown cloth, and for several minutes, Azula practiced some Firebending stances, getting a feel for the new, decrepit clothes. At least they were stretchy enough that she could move around a bit. She would just have to hope they wouldn't rot off her body before they got back home.

She folded her old clothes, not sure what she should do with them, honestly. Should she burn them away, the last tangible piece of Fire Nation that she owned? She looked over to Zuko, sitting by the river's edge, focused on something by his side. His old clothes were currently folded on the ground beside him; perhaps she would keep hers. At least his new clothes weren't any better than hers. He wore a long dark brown colored shirt with buttons running from his collarbone to the bottom of the shirt and a pair of pale brown, almost yellow long pants, folded up the same way that hers were, though his didn't look as baggy; those must have been some tall peasants. He had also been fortunate enough to also find a pair of shoes, little brown moccasin shoes. She supposed he had to get lucky sometime.

Currently, his shirt was unbuttoned, and he held it apart with one hand and dipped the other hand into the river water. Azula approached, her bundle of clothes under one arm. She realized that he was rinsing water over his side, over the stitched up gash that he still had. The area around it was flushed with color, a dark bruise forming. She hadn't realized how hard Father had struck him.

"So, what's your name?" Azula asked, seating herself less than a foot away.

"I'm not in the mood for games," he answered, busy with his work.

"Wrong," she said. "We have to have pretend identities, don't we? We're in disguise."

"I know that," he scowled, looking up at her. "I've already made myself an identity. So what's _your_ name?"

"I asked first. Who are you?"

"Lee," Zuko said, clenching his teeth. "I'm just some wanderer."

"Lee," Azula repeated. She thought of her geriatric lightning bending tutors. Lo and Li. Everyone was a Li or Lee, girls and boys respectively. "Lee. That's not very interesting. Don't you have any imagination?"

"The more boring you are," he said, "the better your chance that no one will recognize you."

He was probably right. Dammit. Azula rolled her eyes, annoyed with him again. She would need a generic identity. Ugh, she really was going to have to pretend to be a peasant. This was going to be the worst part, having to assimilate with those heathens. He patted the stitched wound with the end of his shirt, drying it. Azula wondered if it hurt a lot, but she wasn't about to ask. It wasn't like he would answer anyway.

"Speaking of disguises," Zuko added, pausing in his self care to get up and grab their bag. He withdrew the sheathed knife and held it out to her. "Here, take this."

Azula arched an eyebrow, looking at the blade and then back up at him. "What for? You need a weapon far more than I do."

Zuko scoffed, dropping it down in front of her as he began to button his shirt, still standing above her. "It's for your hair."

Any previous good mood that she might have had was promptly and irrevocably destroyed.

"Ex_cuse_ me? I am _not _cutting my hair," Azula asserted loudly, glaring at Zuko for such a moronic idea, and she shoved the knife away, like it was poisonous. She would have nothing at all to do with a haircut. Cutting her hair. What a terrible, blasphemous idea! Cutting off one's hair was a sign of _shame_. Dishonor. She was better than that, so much better. How could she do such a thing? Why would she even consider it? How long would it take to grow back to its current glory if she cut it now? Would it _ever_?

"Look," Zuko sighed, continuing his slow buttoning upward; he had started in the middle. He was so ridiculous. "I know you don't want to, and I get that; believe me. But cutting it will make you less recognizable. We have to look as different as we can just in case we run into anyone who wants to capture us."

"I am _not_ _cutting_ _my hair_," she repeated, louder, more forceful, and she rose to her feet to better stand her ground, leaving the knife in the grass. "Just because we're in this situation does not mean that I need to cut my hair. I don't want it to be shaggy and messed up like _yours_."

He ignored the jibe and pressed on. "You _have_ to change it," he told her. "We _have_ to look different. If you don't cut it, what are you going to do instead?"

"I'll just—" She reached up to pull at the band that held her hair up, noticing with a sear of annoyance how tangled and rough it felt. She needed her hair combed _badly_; this mess was unreal. "I'll take it out—" she tugged at the band, gritting her teeth as she felt several strands rip themselves loose from her scalp. She wished that she knew some other style she could put it in, rather than letting it hang undignified and knotted down her back. She had never styled her own hair before, though surely it couldn't be hard to learn; Ty Lee, after all, could style Azula's hair in less than a minute. If Ty Lee could do it, anyone could. "See?" The rubber tie finally ripped out, and frustrated, she turned her attention on him. "And what are _you_ going to do?"

"What are you talking about?" he scoffed, rising to his feet just to match her posture, fully buttoned, as common as could be. "That picture of me is older, from when my hair was different. I don't have to do anything."

He was right, of course; it seemed the poster-makers had saved some time and used Zuko's _old_ wanted poster picture. What a lucky bastard he was. His hair had changed since then, but she supposed that hardly mattered when the most important feature would never leave his face.

"You know what I mean," she replied, hating the poster, hating her aching scalp, hating him for not having to sacrifice anything to look different from the picture. "What will you do to hide your scar?"

His body immediately stiffened, every fiber in him turning into instant, rigid dislike; she bet that if she had stricken him, she would have brought him less tension. "I _can't hide it_, Azula," he said, his voice low, his hands pausing over his final buttons.

"It's far more noticeable than my long hair," Azula pointed out reasonably, rubbing at the still sore spot in her scalp.

"This is part of my face," Zuko retorted, his tone getting nasty as he gestured the mark. "It's not some accessory I can just take off."

"Relax," she told him, brushing her hair over one shoulder. She stretched, like this was all just a peaceful conversation, like there was no offense to be taken in her words. "I'm not trying to start a fight or anything. I'm just making a point. If someone sees you, they'll recognize you by that mark right away. Maybe you ought to make an effort to hide it."

"What am I supposed to do?" he demanded. "Put a sheet of paper over it? Wrap up half of my face? Even wearing an eye-patch draws more attention to it. Come on."

"I don't know, Zuko," she threw her arms up. "It's on _your_ face; you should know how to handle that scar by now. You've had it for over three years now. Ugh," she rolled her eyes, snapping her hair band onto her wrist. "I cannot believe that I am stuck out here with you. Of all people in the world. You are literally the worst person to be on the run with. You're probably the most noticeable person in the world. Definitely the Fire Nation."

"Really?" he snapped. "_Really?_ Do you even _realize_ how much I have helped you since we've gotten stuck out here? I've saved your life! I didn't have to do that! I might actually be the _best_ person for you to be stuck out here with. I _know_ what it's like to be banished. I've already _learned _how to survive a bit. You ought to be thankful for me, instead of mean."

Azula glared, denying it all without consideration, scowling at him. "I'm not _mean_," she said haughtily, jutting her chin out. "I just make truthful observations. Sorry if that hurts your _feelings."_ Her tone indicated that she was not sorry one bit and that the existence of said feelings was to be frowned upon. He shouldn't be so sensitive.

Zuko scoffed, crossing his arms over her chest. "You know, I might be the only person in the world who doesn't hate you right now. I would think that you'd want to keep it that way."

"Oh, please," Inexplicably, her throat hurt. "There's no need to pretend. I know you hate me just as much as the next commoner."

"I don't hate you," Zuko stated, with dignity. _Yet,_ she thought venomously.

"Well, _I_ hate you," Azula retorted, setting her hands on her hips. Whether it was true or not, it was worth saying such a horrible thing to see his eyes flash a hint of dismay back at her. "And if you're not going to cover your scar, then what is the point of me even _changing_ my hair? No matter what I do to it, your stupid face is still going to make it clear who we are. Why should I bother?"

"Well, how about this?" he snapped. "If I get caught by soldiers, then you can just leave me behind. I can go ahead and die happy without you. You can just go on without me and starve to death by yourself because you don't know how to do anything out here!"

How _dare_ he! She very well knew how to do things out here! Who was the one who had run fast enough to catch their ostrich horse? Who was the one who had taken down the most thieves during their fight? Who was the one here who knew the art of lightning bending? Because it sure as hell wasn't _him!_ She set her hands on her hips, glaring. "I have half a mind to blast you full of lightning right now."

"Go ahead," Zuko said fiercely, holding his hand out in a sloppy defensive position. "I'll redirect it."

She rolled her eyes in disbelief. In that stance? The idea was preposterous. "Of course you will."

"I know how," Zuko pressed. "Uncle taught me."

"Oh, really?" Azula laughed scornfully. "Uncle shot lightning at his precious little nephew just so you could practice redirecting it? Exactly how many times have you redirected lightning? Certainly a task so dangerous would require months of practice before you could do it properly."

"I _know _that I can do it," he insisted, his posture straightening up, looking a bit more respectable. "Just try me."

"Maybe I will," she said, not yet raising her hand.

"Do it, then!" he snapped, unflinching, facing what would surely be certain death for him if she did do it. And maybe she ought to. It might make her feel better to shoot him up with electricity. In fact, she was sure that it would make her feel a bit better; it might quell the sound of her heart pounding in her ears like a drum. Of course, it would really be unproductive if she did shoot him; what good would it do for her if she struck him dead right now? If she wanted to strike him dead, she should do it when they were close to home and he was getting close to his destiny of imprisonment. Because Zuko was at least partially right about one thing, if she thought about it- he was definitely helpful out here. More helpful than her, perhaps not, but he was not useless.

"Well, I wouldn't do it when you're facing me, _prepared_ for it," Azula reasoned. "That wouldn't be a good measure of your skills at all. I'll have to do it when you aren't expecting it. In order to get a real picture of how good you are."

He scowled, not lowering his defensive hand. If he could burn her with his gaze, he would have. They stood, glaring at each other in silence, and Azula could hear that drum again. Maybe it wasn't her heart. Maybe there really was a drum playing around here. Probably in town. Maybe they were having a peasant festival. It sounded like music.

Even with the distant music playing, Zuko did not look away from her; perhaps he did not want to be taken unaware if she tried to strike him down. It was weird though… now she was sure that she heard a voice singing too, getting slightly louder and louder as the quiet between them stretched out. It was almost like someone was playing music in the forest, which was completely implausible. Why would someone be playing music in the forest?

"Do you hear that?" Azula asked, scanning the trees around them.

Zuko didn't lower his hand, but his eyes moved. "Yeah, it sounds like music."

"Is that typical of Earth Kingdom towns?" she questioned.

"In Ba Sing Se, Uncle sang and danced for money," he told her.

Azula smirked. "Did _you?"_ The idea of him singing and dancing was an exercise in the absurd. Hilarious, though.

"I don't do that kind of stuff."

The leaves rustled around them, bushes moving and the music getting louder. Someone was coming closer, singing loudly as they did so.

"_Even if you're lost, you can't lose the love because it's in your heart… oooh…_"

Azula and Zuko frowned at each other, a temporary truce coming up invisibly between them to deal with the potential musical thieves coming their way.

And then a small group wandered out of the trees, each one looking as though they might have just woken up from a nap. There were five of them, all dressed in bright colors, and none of them held a weapon or even stood in what could even be associated with a fighter's stance. In fact, if Azula had been asked to picture what a group of homeless, unkempt peasants looked like, these people just might epitomize it.

There was a man with a guitar, wearing a shirt with only one sleeve, half of his chest exposed; a woman with a tall, flowery hat and a flute; a fat, fat man with a long mustache and a small drum in his hands; a thin woman with earrings shaped like small bells; and a tall man in a long, purple shirt.

Presently, all five of them looked at her, standing slightly closer to where they were, her hands clenched into fists, not quite up in a fighter's stance, but not quite relaxed at her sides. They didn't seem like too much of a threat, but you could never be too certain. Those musical instruments could be used against enemies easily. They all turned their attention from her simultaneously to Zuko, contented smiles all around.

And they just _stared_ at him. It wasn't an accusing, knowing stare. It was pure fascination. Like they had never seen anyone like him before, like they had never seen a mark like the one he wore on his face. Azula looked over to her brother as well, and he frowned, the lightest of flushes prickling his cheeks. It was clear that he did not appreciate this attention.

"Heyyy…" the man with the guitar said good-naturedly, rubbing on his stubbly chin, continuing to gaze at Zuko. "I think I know you from somewhere."

"No, you don't," Zuko said right away, shaking his head, and Azula felt a sense of foreboding, along with the tiniest surge of vindication. Of _course _it was Zuko's mark that would get them noticed. "You're mistaken."

"It's like the legend," the man turned to the woman with the flowered hat, as though for verification. "Doesn't he look like that legend? The Legend of the Spirit Dancer. How does that song go again…?" He thoughtfully strummed his guitar, looking out into the distance. "_Spotty, the one-eyed Spirit Dancer; Spotty, he loved to tap_… come on, you know it!"

Azula pressed her lips together to smother the sound of her small laugh.

"My name is _Lee_," Zuko said indignantly, though he sounded very believable. Very good. "And this is my sister, Pupi."

Her amusement died in her throat, and Azula sent him a scowl of the utmost dislike.

"I don't remember that part in the song," said the flower-hat woman behind the guitar man, politely confused.

"Who are you people?" Azula asked, setting her hands slowly on her hips. "Are you musicians or something?"

"You could say that," the guitared man answered, suddenly strumming his instrument. "_Because, what is a world without song and dance? What is a world without love_?" As he continued to sing, the two individuals who held no instruments began to dance, flailing their arms about, wild and uninhibited. They were as fluid in their movements as a rushing river. It was a bit disturbing. "_A world without love is a sad and lonely place; a world without love is completely a disgrace_…" The song went on for at least another minute.

Azula and Zuko exchanged glances as the strangers clapped their approval for their leader after the song was over.

"Nah, but we're not really musicians," he continued, having finished his song contentedly. "I'm Chong, and this is my wife Lily," he gestured the bewildered flower-hat woman beside him, "Then there's Moku," he pointed to the fat, mustachioed one, "Ro," the tall, purple shirted one, "And Lita," the thin woman with the bell-shaped earrings. "We're nomads. We're happy to go wherever the wind takes us."

"Where's the wind taking you next?" Zuko asked meaningfully, a tiny touch of rudeness in there. He must have been irritated about all the staring.

"The wind is as unpredictable as the seasons, my friend," Chong lectured wisely. "But wherever we go, we'll be spreading joy and laughter through the wonder of music and dancing."

"That's great," Azula said, looking sidelong at Zuko. "Because my brother _loves_ to dance."

Zuko returned her hateful scowl from earlier with a contemptuous glare of his own.

"Oh, well have we got the song for you!" Chong declared, his fingers plucking wildly at the guitar strings, starting up a fast paced tune.

_"Old Zhang Toola was a mighty man,_

_Washed his face in a frying pan, _

_Brushed his teeth with a wagon wheel,_

_Got a axe blade in his heel..."_

Lita and Ro were dancing wildly to the rhythm, and Azula nudged Zuko in the arm, smirking at him. He glared at her, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, refusing to budge. He wouldn't dance, not even for show.

The song finished, and Lita and Ro clapped again, pleased by the song or perhaps pleased by having gotten the opportunity to flail around in an attempt at dancing.

"You know, for someone who loves to dance, you don't really have a lot of rhythm," Moku observed, addressing Zuko. Zuko scowled.

"Ahh," Chong said. "Time to rest."

"Oh," said Ro suddenly, gesturing up to the nearby tree, "Look at this! It's a kiwi-fig tree! See the glorious plumage of the blossoms?"

"Oooh," said all the other nomads, perfectly on cue. Almost harmonic, in a way.

"They are highly edible and vaguely delectable," Ro added, plucking a little green fruit from the tree. "Let's gather some."

Chong plucked on the guitar strings with renewed vigor, turned away from Zuko and Azula, and he began a new song. "Ohh, _the kiwi-fig tree is a tree of life,"_ he sang, while Ro began to pluck fruit from the tree and deposit it into a large bag. "_It gives is flowers and removes our strife…"_ Fat Moku plopped down on the ground and patted his drum periodically, and thin Lita just began to dance like a spastic child. Azula could not look away; it was fascination equivalent to watching a train crash.

"Do you know a lot about plants?" Zuko asked, and Azula understood-survival. The fruit that the nomads were going after was quite camouflaged. How had Ro even known what it was? He had identified an edible plant from sight alone. What a great skill that would be for getting home safely.

"Oh, yes," said Lily, who was withdrawing her flute from a back pocket. "Ro knows all about plants. We all have our role to play in this cycle of life."

Azula pursed her lips, eyeing the silly-looking, celebrating nomads. "What does Chong do?" she asked, refusing to believe he could do anything other than sing poorly constructed melodies.

"Chong does the most important thing!" Lily said brightly, the flute at her chin. "He's a musical genius! He keeps us all happy and motivated while we travel the world." She smiled at them. "Also, he knows how to get almost anywhere in the world."

"Anywhere in the world?" Zuko repeated. "What about..." he paused; that town over the mountains was nameless, and he couldn't rightly ask them if they knew a good path to the Fire Nation. That would definitely make the nomads suspicious.

"Through the mountains," Azula interrupted, snatching the map from it's place in Zuko's waistband. She unfurled it and swept her finger over the mountains, going past the smudged up town spot. "Which is the best way through the mountains? Does this town have a path leading up to it?"

"Well, probably," said Lily. "Every town has a path to get in if you look hard enough."

"Well, then, let's go," Azula said, eager to restart the mission, ready to have something to attach her mind to. They were going back home to the Fire Nation. They were going to start over again, a clean slate, and those airship people were going to be imprisoned for falsifying wanted posters and trying to murder them. Just a day or two to get out of the forest and mountains, and a few more days to get back to the shore and find a boat to get them to the Fire Nation. That left... a few weeks to gather supplies and catch the Avatar before Sozin's Comet. That wouldn't be so bad.

"Wait," Zuko touched her arm, pulling her slightly. "Can we talk?"

"Excuse us," Azula said to Lily, but the nomad was already mentally elsewhere, playing her flute, doing her part for the song.

"What if they recognize us?" he whispered. "We can figure out a path by ourselves, if we need to. We have a map."

"They won't recognize us," she shook her head, fully certain. "I think the most we have to fear from them is migraines."

"You don't know that," Zuko insisted. "It's better if it's just the two of us." And she understood the value of traveling with only the two of them. She knew how he thought. They made a decent team, if they needed to. She noticed the little crease in his brow as he looked at her. He really was concerned about being caught. He did have more to worry about than she did, judging by physical appearances alone.

"The benefits though," Azula said, marking off her fingers. "They know how to identify plants. They know how to get through the mountains. We could learn from them, and we can get back on track to go _home._ Yeah, they're annoying with that stupid music... but did you see how that guy identified that plant? That was impressive."

"But if they find out who we are," Zuko pointed out, "then all they need to do is strangle us in our sleep. We have a price dead and alive. They aren't rich. They could probably use the money."

"They won't find out who we are," Azula assured him, gesturing them with her hand. "I'm _telling_ you. And if by some crazy chance they do, I won't let them-" she swallowed her words, quickly changing her train of thought; what had she even been saying? "Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices in order to reach an end goal, and we want to get back home, get our supplies, and search for the Avatar. Remember, that's our mission. This is a sacrifice we have to make to get there. And we can probably learn a lot from them while we're on this trip- they know how to _survive._ We need that. It's only like two days anyway."

"I guess so," he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "But Azu-" he paused, and she saw him purse his lips, amusement dancing into his eyes. "Sorry; I meant _Pupi..."_

"Ugh, shut up."

What a bastard.

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>"<em>Leaves passing by, circling a tree,<em>

_Walking with our new friends, Lee and Pupi.._."

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>Azula had never liked sharing. Not when she was a baby, not when she was a child, not now, and not ever. She was sure that she was never going to fully appreciate the benefits of sharing, no matter what happened. If something belonged to her, then why should someone else be allowed to use it? If they wanted what she had, they ought to just get their own, and if they couldn't get their own, then they ought to deal with it in a more constructive manner than asking for her possessions.<p>

And now she was walking again because she was supposed to _share._ Pent had never technically been hers to begin with, but she and Zuk_o_ had found him, and she was pretty sure that this counted in favor of him being theirs. He belonged to _her_ mostly, since she had done the most work in capturing him, but he belonged a little bit to Zuko too_._ And now they were alternating turns riding on Pent's back. She didn't even get to ride on her prize anymore.

"It's just a little bit of walking, and they've been going a long time too," Zuko had told her. "Don't be lazy."

Like hell she was lazy. Azula had always been the one to convince Zuko to do things without directly requesting it. She had always been able to play him, manipulate him to do what _she_ wanted him to do. She had to wonder if somehow, Zuko might be learning to play her too, a little bit.

"_Pent, the ostrich-horse,_

_The strongest ostrich-horse in the land…"_

And he certainly had to be strong as they alternated their turns riding on Pent's back. Azula had been sullen and quiet, her arms across her chest, inadvertently making up for the musical chaos that the nomads were bringing into their lives, and Zuko leaned against Pent's neck as though he was just tired. Moku didn't get as long of a turn because Pent kept sitting down when Moku tried to ride him. Lita braided nearly all the scruffy hair on Pent's neck. Ro danced around while riding, energy abound. Lily played her flute, and Chong strummed his guitar, a new song for each occasion.

"_Brown fur and a beak, and he never even complains_…"

It was the first time Azula had almost felt sorry for an animal.

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>The trees were really thinning out, leaving behind grass and the occasional bush, the scenery becoming more and more sparse and rugged. The path was long and it looked as though trees were becoming a thing of the past. It almost looked like they were starting to come into the desert. She couldn't wait until they got to that town, got their bearings, and then headed west. The Fire Nation. Every step was a step closer to home, and the idea of getting home and taking a proper bath kept her motivated. And they would get to eat whatever they wanted. And they would be <em>away from these nomads. <em>That would be so great.

A song for every minute. A song for every new action and every little animal they saw. A song about old legends and a song about new, invented legends. Azula had a headache.

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>"<em>The Painted Lady watches over the town; <em>

_She hovers over us in her sweeping white gown,_

_Keeping people safe and healthy_

_Painted lady, painted lady_

_Where are you_…"

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>As the day progressed, getting close to dusk, the songs became marginally more questionable.<p>

"_Giraffe rhinos have the longest of necks,_

_that's why they have such a hard time during_-"

"Can you stop singing?" Zuko interrupted suddenly from his place on Pent's back.

"Which song would you prefer, little Spotty man?" Chong asked, looking back at him with a smile.

"I'd prefer _no_ song," Zuko clarified.

"Hmm," Chong frowned. "I've never heard of the 'No' Song."

"I mean that I'm tired of hearing music," Zuko said, and Azula honestly wasn't sure how much more clear he could make himself without simply yelling at the nomads to shut up.

"I'm tired too," Moku complained.

"Me too," agreed Lita.

"Okay, well, why don't we stop for the night?" Chong offered, and the nomads nodded and flopped down into various places among the sandy and gravelly ground.

"No, I didn't mean...ugh," Zuko groaned, and he rubbed on his forehead, shaking his head slightly. Azula frowned. It was barely dusk right now! These nomads had no endurance. This was going to waste so much valuable traveling time by the daylight. They could travel more today if they tried! Didn't these people understand the importance of getting out of this place? It was like the only things that mattered to them were music and relaxation. And stories.

"We can still..." Azula felt her voice trail off. The nomads were all already laid out in various positions, and even Pent sat down, ready for a rest. "Wait a minute," Azula said authoritatively. "We can still travel. There is still at least a half hour left of daylight. We can go for another mile or two at least!"

"Yeah," Chong said thoughtfully. "But we could also lay here and get some glorious rest."

"It's more important that we keep traveling," she insisted, and she heard Zuko move off of Pent, possibly giving up too. He must have been tired, because she had never known Zuko to give up on anything. Or he must not have cared as much. He probably just didn't care as much as she did.

"It's alright, little Pupi. We'll get to traveling again in the morning," Chong said, and it was that damn name that irked her more than anything else.

"Well, I command you all to get up and travel at least another mile!" Azula snapped, her face feeling heated.

Chong chuckled at her. "Well, I command you to sit down and have a great rest!"

They didn't take her seriously. They just thought she was a stupid little girl named Pupi who wanted to travel. She was a peasant. Oh, if she could just burn up the world in front of them, if she could blow it all up in their faces... Azula clenched her hands into fists, feeling her palms hot, her heart racing. They had no idea of the disrespect they had paid her. Maybe Zuko had been right; they should have never decided to team up with such imbeciles! Because when she blasted fire at them now, it definitely was going to blow their cover. If they had said that to her in the Fire Nation, just a few weeks ago, they would not be alive to tell the tale. To inevitably create a song about it. How nice it would be to punish them appropriately, to burn up that stupid looking guitar. God, her hands felt so hot.

"Here, take this," Zuko said to her, and she glared at him, unsure if she could speak with the angry knot that had developed in the base of her throat. He was handing her their canteen of water, and his eyes spoke volumes to her._ Calm down_, they said, shrewd and clear. She took a drink of water, probably more than she should have, just to have something more constructive to do than fantasize about exploding those musical instruments, and as they looked at her, she wanted to harm them more. They wouldn't look at her with such amusement and peacefulness if they knew that she could melt their faces off. "I'll make a fire," Zuko told the nomads, taking the attention away from her and bringing it to him.

And for that, she was grateful.

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>Azula sat by their bag, her back against Pent, her hands across her chest, glaring at the group surrounding her, each person getting at least a full four seconds of scowl. Zuko was rubbing two sticks together over a tiny pile of wood, very unsuspicious as he started a fire, though she knew he was heating his hands at the same time to speed up the process. Chong was on the ground, lying down with his head up on his own backpack, still strumming his guitar, still making music, still annoying. Lily was near him, sitting on her knees, playing her flute, just beaming at him and his shaggy peasantry. Moku was lying flat on the ground, his drum in his hands, perhaps already asleep. What a bum. Ro was still up and dancing, flailing his arms around in the air, wild and unrestricted. And Lita…<p>

Lita was coming up right to her, a bundle of flowers in her hand. "Here," she offered with a smile, holding up what appeared to be a flowered necklace.

"Oh, no, I don't want that," Azula told her; what use did she have for a necklace of flowers?

"Ah, so you'd prefer a different color?" Lita asked, kneeling beside her as she dumped out the contents of her bag.

"I said…" Azula's voice trailed off as she stared at the sumptuous amount of junk that had come from the depths of Lita's bag. It seemed like there was a little bit of everything, and frankly, she was impressed as to how the girl had fit everything into a bag that hadn't seemed all that large. There were all colors of socks, purple, red, blue, and green scarves, a long skirt, a small bag full of jewelry, several leaves, a bright yellow mushroom, a string of blue flowers, four strings of white flowers, two strings of pink flowers, and a small canteen of water. Everything was just colorful with these people. "Wow," she commented, picking at the neon yellow mushroom with interest; she did not think that she had ever seen a plant so vibrant and unnatural before.

"That's a poisonous mushroom," Lita informed her.

Azula set it down, suddenly ten times more interested in this woman. "Why do you have a poisonous mushroom?"

Perhaps these nomads were more cunning and clever than she gave them credit for.

"Because it's beautiful," Lita explained.

Or, perhaps not.

Beautiful and deadly. That was as good a reason as any to keep something around. Azula liked to think herself beautiful and deadly, though at the current moment, she did not feel particularly beautiful. Of course, that was a good thing, since as Zuko had said, the more boring and unnoticeable they were, the less suspicious they would be. Judging by how drab she felt, she was the least suspicious person in the world.

"How about some blue flowers?" Lita suggested, holding out the blue flower string. "These will look beautiful opposing your light eyes."

Azula lowered her gaze, careful to not let the girl see her eyes more than necessary. "Sure, that's great," she agreed, mostly to make Lita go away. A flower necklace would just rot away with time, and was a fire hazard in a battle. Of course this girl didn't know any better, and she placed the necklace over Azula's head, around her neck.

"What color do you think your brother wants?" Lita asked, looking down at her belongings.

"Pink, definitely," said Azula without hesitation, holding her hand out for the flowers. "Thanks."

"Why don't you take some scarves, too?" Lita offered, gesturing. "They will make you look more colorful and exciting."

"Yes, thanks," Azula agreed, taking the scarves closest to her. Why didn't this girl just go away? "If you don't mind," Azula said, "I think I am going to rest now..."

"Oh, yes," Lita agreed. "Resting is a wonderful idea."

"Yes," Azula continued slowly. "And I would like to do that... alone."

"I like to do things alone too," Lita said brightly. "Wow, we have so much in common."

"Go away," Azula told her.

"Oh, of course!" Lita nodded at her, gathering her belongings up. "It was great to talk to you, Pupi."

Azula didn't answer, waiting with shrinking patience for the girl to leave. Lita settled her belongings several feet away and did not sit; she instead began swaying to a song that Chong was playing, a (thankfully) lyric-less song that he hummed. Zuko was done with the fire, and he sat on his knees in front of it, quiet. The fire was a comforting presence, even though with it being the summertime, it was warm enough that they would not have needed it save for cooking purposes. Nobody was cooking tonight though; Ro handed out some of the kiwi-figs he had picked earlier, and that was dinner.

Azula rose, stretching, and she came up behind her brother, new items in her hands. He didn't turn around at her approach, and she dropped the pink flower necklace over his head, crowning him with the foolish things.

"Lita made this for you," Azula told him, and he looked down at it, frowning slightly. "She told me that she would cry if you didn't wear it."

"Oh, joy," Zuko mumbled. Then he put his index finger in his mouth.

"You are so disgusting," she told him. "I can't imagine how dirty your hands are."

He rolled his eyes, withdrawing the offending finger. "I got a splinter," he explained in exasperation, looking down at the finger in the light of the fire. Azula squinted at it, finding a small dark spot right on the top of his index finger, running parallel to his fingernail.

"How did you even do that?" she asked. "We only had like two pieces of wood. You're lucky that fire is still burning."

He smirked, and she smiled in return, and for a moment, it was like they had a secret together, the secret of the fire that the nomads would never figure out.

She dropped one of the scarves onto his lap, bright blue. "She also gave us scarves to be more colorful. We can probably use them like bandages if ever we need some."

"Hm," Zuko put his finger back in his mouth, thoughtful.

"Licking it isn't going to make it better, dummy," Azula scoffed at him, setting one hand on her hip.

"I'm not licking it," he snapped. "I'm sucking on it to get it out. _Dummy."_

She watched him, looking completely foolish with his finger in his mouth, pink flowers around his neck, his face lit up by the bright fire in front of them. He looked like a baby with a finger in his mouth, and even though the nomads wouldn't give a damn about it, it irritated her for some reason. If Father could see him, he would disown him on the spot. If he hadn't already with that poster. No, don't think about that. She looked at her own fingers, noticing the dirt under her nails. _Ugh._ She had to cut her nails at some point; short nails were better than filthy, long nails like _these._ And then she realized that her nails were long. She could pull a splinter out easily, if she wanted.

Azula lowered herself onto her knees, right beside him, and she held out her hand. "You're embarrassing yourself," she told him, gesturing her open palm. "Give me your hand."

"I don't need your help," he murmured.

"You'll be here all night trying to get that thing out," she said. "Don't be a fool."

"I can do it," Zuko said stubbornly.

Azula rolled her eyes, but she wasn't going to press the issue. If he wanted to be a total idiot and get the splinter out like that, sucking on his finger all night, then he could do it. She didn't care one way or the other, and she looked at the vibrant blue fabric draped over his lap, Lita's scarf.

"That scarf would be a great head wrap too," she added, looking at her own, a rich green color. A common color of the Earth Kingdom. "You could cover up that scarred side easily."

"Well, I wouldn't put it on the good side," Zuko scoffed, moving his finger to the corner of his mouth.

"Although," she added, after a thought, "it would make you look far more pathetic. Maybe you should try it, to get money from sympathetic people."

"Yeah, that's a great idea," he said sarcastically, withdrawing his finger to look at it. "Cover the only eye that can—" He stopped abruptly, everything about him unexpectedly uncertain, and his eyes flickered over to her for a moment, as if to check if she had noticed. He swallowed, and he stuck his finger back in his mouth without another word. Like he hadn't even spoken. She stared at him, her attention immediately drawn to this new hesitancy.

"What?" she inquired, and suddenly rapt with interest, she looked into his face. "What were you going to say?"

Zuko shook his head, staring at the fire, suddenly enraptured with the flames. "Nothing," he murmured. "Mind your own business."

Azula gazed at him thoughtfully, remembering a time three and a half years ago, shortly after Zuko had been burned, listening to the doctors speculate over his condition—she remembered them discussing that he might have lost some of his vision in the trauma, but Zuko had left the Fire Nation before she had been given the opportunity to find out for sure. That had to be it. _See_. That was what he had been about to say. It had to be. It was the only thing that even made sense. The only eye that can _see_.

"See?" she asked softly, intently. "Is it the only eye that can _see_?"

"No," he snapped, frustrated and flushed with pink. "Just shut up. Not that it's any of your business."

"That's fine," she shrugged a shoulder, crossing her legs at the ankle. "But you know what, Zuko? You ought to tell me if you have a bad eye. If we're in an important fight, I have to know those kinds of weaknesses so that I can compensate for them."

Zuko did not look at her, and she watched him very carefully, looking at his scarred eye as though it held unspoken answers. She knew that she had made a valid point, and he probably hadn't even thought about it. What if they _were_ attacked by thieves again and he didn't see something coming toward him—it could cause him to lose his fight, and then _she_ would have to pick up his slack. Of course, _he_ had been the one to detect the intruders and see through the haze of the rain. Clearly, if his eye was damaged, it was not affecting his skill, and he had learned to compensate in other ways. She had to know. The curiosity burned into the pit of her stomach, more fierce than the actual flames before them. She hadn't thought that Zuko actually had the capacity to hide things about himself, _especially_ from her. He was always such a terrible liar, and she had always been so good at reading him. Were there a lot of things that she did not know about him?

She saw his larynx move in this throat as he swallowed, and he looked at his splintered finger again, all his attention given to the pinprick of wood in there.

"Why would you even care to know?" he said roughly. "You don't care about this. You just want to know new things that you can use against me when we get back home."

"That's not true," Azula defended. "Is it so wrong to want to know more about my only brother in the world?"

"Yes," Zuko glared. "I know you. What's your ulterior motive?"

"I don't have one," she shook her head at him. "You don't have to be so paranoid. I'm just curious, is all."

"Uh-huh."

"Fine," she said, folding her arms across her chest, annoyed with his suspicion. "How about something less personal, then? What's your favorite color?"

His finger had returned to his lips. "I don't have one."

"Oh, wow, you're such a fascinating guy."

"Well, what's _your_ favorite color then?" Zuko demanded.

"Probably red," Azula said, reminiscing of the color of the strong Fire Nation, the color of her old outfit. "It's the color of conquest, our heritage, and patriotism. It's a bold, striking color that symbolizes success and runs through the veins of every noble and every disgusting creature that walks this planet. no one can deny red."

He stared at her. "Oh."

Azula looked back at him, her attention focused for a moment on his damaged side, wondering. She should know; she needed to know everything, but unless she befriended him, she was sure that she would never get that answer. She tried a kinder tactic. "You can tell me anything, you know."

Zuko looked back at the fire, pulling his finger from his mouth. "If you say so."

He spit the splinter out into the fire, where it popped and crackled and burned away into the heat, burning away like a young little boy's face under the hand of an angry lord.

* * *

><p>oOoOoOo<p>

* * *

><p>I imagine Chong says that they are "happy to go wherever the wind takes us" to everyone he meets. :) I hope the nomads didn't seem too off! BTW the amount of content I cut out of this chapter is <em>outrageous<em>! It was for the best, but seriously, wow. Maybe I'll make a deleted scenes thing toward the end or something if you guys are interested. Let me know what you think. Anyway, can I tell you how EXCITED I am to be finally done with this chapter? I hope you all liked it!

I'm hoping to get back on schedule with my monthly updates, so I hope to see you in December! :D

I WONDER WHERE THEY'RE GOING. :) Props to you if you know where they are headed without consulting the Avatar map haha.

P.S.: if you know any clever little poem/songs, then feel free to donate. My Chong reservoir is running dry. I was never any good at creating poetry/songs.


End file.
